burst of recollection his hands came off the keyboard, and he wheeled round upon the music-stool with an air of conscience-stricken guilt. Madge stood close by, actually quivering with a conflict of emotions. He met her eyes--instantly to avert his own. There was silence--then a slight tremor in her voice in spite of her effort to prevent it.

"I suppose you have been having a little jest at my expense."

"A jest at your expense?"

"I daresay that is what you call it--though I believe in questions of humour there is room for wide differences of opinion. I should call it something else."

"I don't understand you."

"That is false."

At this point-blank contradiction, the blood showed through his sallow cheeks.

"False?"

"Yes, false. You do understand me. Did you not say that you had been for some time seeking for an opportunity to take lessons in music?"

"I--I----"

Confronted by her red-hot accusatory glances, he stammered, stumbled, stopped.

"Yes?--go on."

"I have been seeking such an opportunity."

"Indeed? And do you wish me to suppose that you believed that you--you--could be taught anything in music by an unknown creature who fastened a plate announcing lessons in music, to the palings of such a place as this?"

He was silent--looking as if he would have spoken, but could not. She went on:

"I thank you for the pleasure you have given me--the unexpected pleasure. It is a favourite piece of mine which you have just performed--I say 'performed' advisedly. I never heard it better played by any one--never! and I never shall. You are a great musician. I?--I am a poor teacher of the rudiments of 

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