"But your mother could have told you--"

"If she didn't, Mrs. Usselex, it was because she had a good excuse."

"What was that?"

"She died also."

"Mr. Arnswald, I am sorry. I had no right to ask such thoughtless
questions. My mother died too. I do not remember her either. Truly you
must forgive me." And as she spoke she rose from the piano and reseated
herself at the lounge which she had previously vacated. "Tell me about
yourself," she added. "I am not asking out of idle curiosity."

"You are very good to express any interest, Mrs. Usselex. But really
there is little to tell. I used to live in Massachusetts, in Salem, with
my grand-parents and my sister. You can see Salem from here, and you can
understand what a boy's life in such a place must be. Afterwards I was
sent to school, and later I went abroad. When I returned Mr. Usselex
took me in his office. I have been there ever since. He has been very
kind to me, Mr. Usselex has."

"He says--how is it he puts it?--oh, he says you have the genius of
finance."

"I can only repeat that he is very kind."

To this Eden assented. "Yes, he is that," she said, and hesitated for a
moment. "Tell me," she added. "You said you were fond of music. Will you
go with us on Monday to the opera?"

This invitation was accepted with the same readiness as that with which
it was made. And presently the young man took his leave. When the
portiere fell behind him, Eden felt a momentary uneasiness at the
unpremeditated invitation which she had just extended. One doesn't need
to be a German to be stupid, she mused, and felt sure that her husband
would disapprove. But when she told him he expressed himself as well
pleased.

The next day happened to be Sunday, and on that afternoon Mr. Arnswald
came to pay his dinner-call. Meanwhile Eden's imagination had been at
work. Now imagination is a force of which the action is as varied as
that of volition. There are organizations which it affects like a
dissolvent, there are others which it affects like wine. In some it
needs a spur, in others a curb. Give it an incident for incubator, and
according to the nature of the individual it will soar full-feathered
into space or addle in its own inaction. In Eden its gestation was
always abrupt. With a fact for matrix it developed as rapidly as a spark
mounts into flame. The fact in this instance was Arnswald.

When he left her the night before, she had gone again to the piano, her
fingers had f