Lord Loring, walking backward and forward, with a restlessness which was far from being characteristic of him in his after-dinner hours, was stopped when he reached the neighborhood of the piano by a private signal from his wife.
"What are you walking about for ?" Lady Loring asked in a whisper, without interrupting her musical performance.
"I'm not quite easy, my dear." "Turn over the music.

Indigestion ?" "Good heavens, Adelaide, what a question!" "Well, what is it, then ?" Lord Loring looked toward Stella and her companion.

"They don't seem to get on together as well as I had hoped," he said.
"I should think not--when you are walking about and disturbing them! Sit down there behind me." "What am I to do ?" "Am I not playing?
Listen to me." "My dear, I don't understand modern German music." "Then read the evening paper." The evening paper had its attractions.

Lord Loring took his wife's advice.
Left entirely by themselves, at the other end of the room, Romayne and Stella justified Lady Loring's belief in the result of reducing her husband to a state of repose.

Stella ventured to speak first, in a discreet undertone.
"Do you pass most of your evenings alone, Mr.Romayne ?" "Not quite alone.