Left to themselves before the peaches and grapes, when dinner was over, they fell silent. The memory of the former occasion tied the girl's tongue. The man was facing his problem. Virginia sat there with him, in his house--his wife. She had come back prepared to accept this fate. Had he the strength to resist, the greatness not to take advantage of, her integrity and courage? The first thing he must do was to ascertain, if possible, her feeling for Gerald Rosenberg, and also whether the young man was really earnest in his love for her. If he could be satisfied on both these heads, he told himself that he must make atonement in the one possible way. His white lily should never go through the mire of a divorce court, nor must lack of money stand between her and the man of her choice. Such thoughts as these are inimical to conversation. He sat for some long minutes peeling a peach, and then sensing the delight of watching her while she ate it. Grover entered quietly. "I just looked in to say I hope you will come upstairs punctually at nine, ma'am," said she, with a keen glance at the two. "Yes, Grover; I will be good to-night--though I warn you your tyranny is nearly over," said Virgie, her eyes full of mischief. How gay she was when the gaiety was not dashed out of her! As Grover retired, she rose from her chair and looked at him pleadingly. "I wonder if you would do something for me to-night--something I specially want you to do?" said she in tones of coaxing. "But of course!" He was on his feet in a moment. "I want you to play to me--on the piano. You played that--first--night. Do you remember?" "You liked it?" She nodded. "I used to hear you afterwards--when I was upstairs. Grover used to open the door for me to listen," she confessed. "Really?" He showed his intense pleasure in this tribute. "Come," he said, "I have got a new piano to show you." They went together down the passage to the door of her own sitting-room, now, needless to say, unlocked. They passed in; and Gaunt thought himself overpaid for anything he had ever suffered when he heard her first "O-o-oh!" of surprise and pleasure. The ivory room lay in warm light. The fire danced on the hearth; and upon the pale blue, rose-garlanded hearth-rug lay Cosmo and Damian, with bows to match their surroundings. The graceful, wine-dark furniture gleamed in the mellow lamp-light. Every piece in the room was perfection in its way. There was a Chesterfield in just the right place, at right angles to the fire. Beside it, a small revolving table book-case alone struck a note of frank modernity, and needed but the books and work to complete it. "You like it?" he asked, trying to mask his eager wistfulness.