A few days passed in discussions and reflections, then, at the customary hour for paying calls, he again ascended the many stairs to Mrs.Frothingham's flat.

It had rained all day, and in this weather there seemed a certainty that the lady would be at home.

But, as he approached the door, Harvey heard a sound from within which discomposed him.

Who, save one person, was likely to be playing on the violin in these rooms?
He paused, cast about him a glance of indecision, and finally pressed the electric bell.
Mrs.Frothingham was not at home.

She might return very shortly.
'Is--Miss Frothingham at home ?' The servant did not straightway admit him, but took his name.