it shamed her.

Very sternly these days Billy reminded herself of what Kate had
said about Bertram's belonging first to his Art. She thought with
mortification, too, that it _did_ look as if she were not the proper
wife for an artist if she were going to feel like this--always. Very
resolutely, then, Billy turned to her music. This was all the more
easily done, for, not only did she have her usual concerts and the opera
to enjoy, but she had become interested in an operetta her club was
about to give; also she had taken up the new song again. Christmas being
over, Mr. Arkwright had been to the house several times. He had changed
some of the words and she had improved the melody. The work on the
accompaniment was progressing finely now, and Billy was so glad!--when
she was absorbed in her music she forgot sometimes that she was ever so
unfit an artist's sweetheart as to be--jealous of a portrait.

It was quite early in the month that the usually expected "January thaw"
came, and it was on a comparatively mild Friday at this time that a
matter of business took Billy into the neighborhood of Symphony Hall at
about eleven o'clock in the morning. Dismissing John and the car upon
her arrival, she said that she would later walk to the home of a friend
near by, where she would remain until it was time for the Symphony
Concert.

This friend was a girl whom Billy had known at school. She was studying
now at the Conservatory of Music; and she had often urged Billy to come
and have luncheon with her in her tiny apartment, which she shared with
three other girls and a widowed aunt for housekeeper. On this particular
Friday it had occurred to Billy that, owing to her business appointment
at eleven and the Symphony Concert at half-past two, the intervening
time would give her just the opportunity she had been seeking to
enable her to accept her friend's invitation. A question asked, and
enthusiastically answered in the affirmative, over the telephone that
morning, therefore, had speedily completed arrangements, and she had
agreed to be at her friend's door by twelve o'clock, or before.

As it happened, business did not take quite so long as she had expected,
and half-past eleven found her well on her way to Miss Henderson's home.

In spite of the warm sunshine and the slushy snow in the streets, there
was a cold, raw wind, and Billy was beginning to feel thankful that she
had not far to go when she rounded a corner and came upon