On the next morning, Brainard found it impossible to conceal from his wife the great anxiety he felt. She said very little to him, for his trouble was of a kind for which she could suggest no remedy. After he parted with her at the door, she returned and sat down in one of the parlours to think. The piano was before her, and back to that her thoughts at length came. It was not only a beautiful instrument, but one of great excellence. Often had it been admired by her friends, and particularly by a lady who had several times expressed a wish to own one exactly like it in every respect. "I wish you would let me have that piano," the lady had said to her not a week before; and said it as much in earnest as in jest. "I wonder if she really would buy it?" mused Mrs. Brainard. "I don't want so fine an instrument. My old piano is a very good one, and is useless at father's. Oh! if I could only get George the four hundred dollars he wants so badly!" And she struck her hands together as her thoughts grew earnest on the subject. For more than an hour the mind of Mrs. Brainard gave itself up to this one idea. Then she dressed herself and went out. Without consulting any one, she called upon the lady to whom reference has been made. "Mrs. Aiken," said she, coming at once to the point, "you have often remarked that you would like to own that piano of mine. Were you really in earnest?" "In earnest? Certainly I was." Mrs. Aiken smiled, at the same time that a slight expression of surprise came into her face. "It's one of the finest instruments I ever touched." "It's for sale," said Mrs. Brainard, in a firm, business-like way. "So there is a chance for you to call it your own." "For sale! Why do you say that, Anna?" "It's too costly an instrument for me to own. My old piano is a very good one--quite good enough for all my purposes." "But this is your husband's wedding-gift, if I remember rightly?" "I know it is; but the gift was too costly a one for a young man whose salary is only a thousand dollars a year." "Then he wishes to sell it." "No, indeed, not he!" "And would you sell it without consulting him?" said Mrs. Aiken. "Such is my intention." "He might be very much displeased." "No matter; I would soon smooth his frowning brow. But, Mrs. Aiken, we won't discuss that matter. The instrument is to be sold. Do you want it?" "I do." "Very well. Are you prepared to buy it?" "Perhaps so. It cost four hundred dollars?" "Yes." "What is your price?" "The same." "Then you make no deduction?" said Mrs. Aiken, smiling. "I wouldn't like to do that. It's as good as new. If I can sell it, I want to be able to put in my husband's hands just what he paid for it." "Oh, then you want the money for your husband?" "Certainly, I do. What use have I for four hundred dollars?"