g nevertheless, and
Hubert stumbled, at first, in his playing. In a few minutes, however,
both musicians became possessed by the music, and then all went well.
Henriette sat in an easy chair and listened critically. Now and then she
would call out "bravo," or "admirable," and when the performance was
over, she was warm in her congratulations.

Hadria was flushed with the effort and pleasure of the performance.

"I never heard Hubert's playing to such advantage," said his sister. "I
seem to hear it for the first time. You really ought to practise
together often." Another afternoon was appointed; Henriette left Hadria
almost no choice.

After the next meeting, the constraint had a little worn off, and the
temptation to continue the practising was very strong. Henriette's
presence was reassuring. And then Hubert seemed so reasonable, and had
apparently put the past out of his mind altogether.

After the practice, brother and sister would linger a little in the
drawing-room, chatting. Hubert appeared to advantage in his sister's
society. She had a way of striking his best vein. Her own talent ran
with his, appealed to it, and created the conditions for its display.
Her presence and inspiration seemed to produce, on his ability, a sort
of cumulative effect. Henriette set all the familiar machinery in
motion; pressed the right button, and her brother became brilliant.

A slight touch of diffidence in his manner softened the effect of his
usual complacency. Hadria liked him better than she had liked him on his
previous visit. His innate refinement appealed to her powerfully.
Moreover, he was cultivated and well-read, and his society was
agreeable. Oh, why did this everlasting matrimonial idea come in and
spoil everything? Why could not men and women have interests in common,
without wishing instantly to plunge into a condition of things which
hampered and crippled them so miserably?

Hadria was disposed to underrate all defects, and to make the most of
all virtues in Hubert, at the present moment. He had come at just the
right time to make a favourable impression upon her; for the loneliness
of her life had begun to leave its mark, and to render her extremely
sensitive to influence.

She was an alien among the people of her circle; and she felt vaguely
guilty in failing to share their ideas and ambitions. Their glances,
their silences, conveyed a world of cold surprise and condemnation.

Hubert was tolerance itself co