“Her husband has been gone all day, and she wishes to look her best this evening.” But Pansy, looking for Norman Wylde’s appearance every hour, was anxious to appear as beautiful as possible in the eyes of the man who had wronged her so deeply. A lovely dress of cream-colored mull and Valenciennes lace was donned. The sleeves were short, and the bodice was a low V neck. She wore no ornaments, except a diamond locket on the black velvet band at her throat and a bunch of creamy-white roses at her slender waist. Thus attired, she was so dazzlingly lovely when she descended to the parlor that Juliette fairly hated her, and could scarcely keep from saying so. Colonel Falconer came in presently, with his kind, intelligent face and fine military bearing, and was charmed with the beauty of the two girls, for Juliette looked her best in a dress of black net with pearl jewelry. “It is a pity for so much loveliness to be wasted on an old fellow like me. I hope we shall have some callers after dinner,” he said gayly. After dinner he begged Juliette to give them some music, but, with a malicious glance at Pansy, she exclaimed: “I do not like to touch the piano, as I am sure your wife plays ever so much better than I do.” Pansy smiled, and answered coolly: “Then your musical attainments must be very superficial, indeed, Miss Ives, for I only know enough of music to play my own accompaniments to a few songs.” “Then you will give us a song, won’t you, and I will play afterward?” cried artful Juliette, thinking that here, at least, she could outshine her uncle’s wife. “Certainly,” Pansy answered carelessly, and moved toward the piano, secure in her consciousness of an exquisitely sweet voice, which had had careful culture when she was a simple schoolgirl, before her father died. Colonel Falconer leaned against the piano, with his back to the door, and Juliette began to turn over the piles of music. “Don’t trouble yourself. I will sing some little thing from memory,” said Pansy. Juliette flung herself into an easy-chair and listened with a sneer, saying to herself: “I would not try to play if I knew nothing but a few accompaniments.” But when that low, sweet, thrilling voice broke the silence, she started in wonder and delight, for she was intensely fond of music, and Pansy’s touch and voice were both exquisite. No one noticed that the door had opened to admit visitors, who paused uncertainly on the threshold, to listen, too, for all were absorbed in the singer. At last the white hands dropped from the piano keys, the thrilling voice became silent. Touched in spite of herself, Juliette said softly: “Oh, how sweet and sad! You have brought tears to my eyes, Mrs. Falconer.” Before Pansy could reply, all three became aware that visitors were advancing into the room.