Dr. Winthrop was electrified, for her voice was exquisite—clear, strong, and flexible. “Why, Salome, you never told me that you were musical!” he exclaimed half reproachfully, when the song was finished; “and you are really quite an artist.” “You never asked me,” she demurely answered, “and I’ve had very little opportunity to tell you anything.” “Perhaps you have other astonishing accomplishments. I shall begin to think you have married me under false pretences,” he returned smilingly. Salome started violently, and darted a half-frightened look at him; but he did not see it, and went on playfully: “Perhaps you are even a connoisseur in art.” “No, indeed; I would not presume to say that; but I have had some instruction in painting and drawing,” she modestly answered. “Salome, you have been finely educated—your advantages, evidently, were of the very best,” Dr. Winthrop remarked, regarding her admiringly, for every day developed something new and interesting in her. “Yes,” she admitted thoughtfully, “and, True, it is time I told you my history—it is time you should know all about your wife’s antecedents. I am strong enough now, surely, to speak of the past, even though there is much that is painful connected with it, without becoming unduly excited, and I want you to know all there is to tell—I want to have no secrets from you.” “Then there are secrets even in your life, Salome!” her husband remarked, regarding her with a fond smile; but he did not imagine that she could have anything very vital to conceal. “Yes,” she said; “but I have no desire to keep them from you.” “Very well, dear; you shall tell me everything, and I must confess that you have at last effectually aroused my curiosity,” the young man said, laughing; then he added: “Come and sit in the easy-chair, and then I will give you my undivided attention.” Salome rose and came forward, but at that moment the bell rang, and a servant entered, saying there was an urgent call for Dr. Winthrop. He had to go away immediately, so, of course, that put a stop to all confidence for that evening. The next morning, while they were at breakfast, he received a cable message, notifying him that his mother and sister would sail that day for America. Salome fancied that there was a cloud on her husband’s brow after reading this dispatch, but he made no comment, and therefore she did not feel like questioning him. He was very busy after that for several days, calls coming in upon him thick and fast, and Salome saw comparatively little of him, excepting in the evenings, and then he seemed so weary and preoccupied that she did not deem it best to broach the subject of their interrupted conversation, but sought to entertain and amuse him by music and reading. “Tell me about your mother and sister,” she pleaded one evening, as the time of their return drew near.