. I would be obliged if people who walk
around the studio while I am being painted will in future refrain from
humming tunes. I don't want him to scoop off my topazes and call for my
emeralds. Also I feel like offering a reward for the discovery of that
tune. I want to know what it has to do with my scheme of colour,
anyway."

When Jane heard the story, she was spending a few days with the Brands
in Wimpole Street. It was told at tea, in Lady Brand's pretty boudoir.
The duchess's Concert, at which Garth had heard her sing THE ROSARY,
was a thing of the past. Nearly a year had elapsed since their final
parting, and this was the very first thought or word or sign of his
remembrance, which directly or indirectly, had come her way. She could
not doubt that the tune hummed had been THE ROSARY.

"The hours I spent with thee, dear heart,
Are as a string of pearls to me;
I count them over, every one, apart."

She seemed to hear Garth's voice on the terrace, as she heard it in
those first startled moments of realising the gift which was being laid
at her feet--"I have learned to count pearls, beloved."

Jane's heart was growing cold and frozen in its emptiness. This
incident of the studio warmed and woke it for the moment, and with the
waking came sharp pain. When the visitors had left, and Lady Brand had
gone to the nursery, she walked over to the piano, sat down, and softly
played the accompaniment of "The Rosary." The fine unexpected chords,
full of discords working into harmony, seemed to suit her mood and her
memories.

Suddenly a voice behind her said: "Sing it, Jane." She turned quickly.
The doctor had come in, and was lying back luxuriously in a large
arm-chair at her elbow, his hands clasped behind his head. "Sing it,
Jane," he said.

"I can't, Deryck," she answered, still softly sounding the chords. "I
have not sung for months."

"What has been the matter--for months?"

Jane took her hands off the keys, and swung round impulsively.

"Oh, boy," she said. "I have made a bad mess of my life! And yet I know
I did right. I would do the same again; at least--at least, I hope I
would."

The doctor sat in silence for a minute, looking at her and pondering
these short, quick sentences. Also he waited for more, knowing it would
come more easily if he waited silently.

It came.

"Boy--I gave up something, which was more than life itself to me, for
the sake of another, and I can't get over it. I know