"How do you like that?" said the wife, with animation, lifting her sparkling eyes to the face of her husband, which was serious, in spite of all he could do to give it a better expression. "Beautifully performed," replied Brainard. "And do you really think so?" said Anna, as she arose and leaning on his arm again, drew him into the next room. "Certainly, I do." "Didn't you think the instrument a little out of tune?" asked Anna. "No; it struck me as being in better tune than when you played last evening." "It's a fine instrument, certainly. I prize it very much." Brainard sighed faintly. "Oh! How about your four hundred dollars?" said Anna, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "Did you get the money?" A change was apparent in the manner of Brainard. "No, Anna," he replied, with assumed calmness. "Do you want it badly?" "Yes, dear. I have four hundred dollars due in the bank to-day, and every effort to obtain the sum has failed." "What if I lend it to you?" said the young wife, looking archly into his troubled face. "You!" he exclaimed, quickly. "Yes, me. Would you take it as a very great favour?" "The greatest you could do me just at this time!" "Very well; here is the money." And Anna drew a purse of gold from her pocket, and held it before his eyes. "Anna! What does this mean?" And Brainard reached his hand to grasp the welcome treasure. But she drew it away quickly, saying, as she did so,-- "Certain conditions must go with the loan." "Name them," was promptly answered by the husband, into whose face the sunshine had already come back. "One is, that you are not to be angry with me for any thing that I have done to-day." "What have you done?" And Brainard glanced around the room with an awakened suspicion. "I want your promise first." "You have it." "But mind you, I am in earnest," said Anna. "So am I. Now make your confession." "I sold the piano." "What?" There was an instant change in the expression of Brainard's face. "Your promise. Remember," said Anna, in a warning voice. "Sold the piano!" And he walked into the next room, Anna moving by his side. "Yes, I sold it to Mrs. Aiken for four hundred dollars. I had my old instrument brought over from father's. This is as good a piano as I want, or you either, I should think, seeing that you perceived no difference in its tones from the one I parted with. Now, take this purse, and if you don't call me the right sort of a wife you are a very strange man--that is all I have to say." Surprise kept Brainard silent for some moments. He looked at the piano, then at his wife, and then at the purse of gold, half doubting whether all were real, or only a pleasant dream.