He stood under the bright lighted chandelier and looked round him.
The carpet was thick and soft. Bella liked carpets her feet could
sink into, she had once said. There by the fireplace was the most
luxurious easy chair he could purchase, upholstered in her favourite
colour, pale blue. He pictured the dainty figure nestling in it, and
a little glow stirred at his heart. After all, she was his wife, his
fondly loved wife, and who could tell? Perhaps with the old life, old
feuds would die out and with the new, joy and happiness dawn for them
both once more.

John Chetwynd was not a religious man; he rarely went to church and
he never prayed; but now he covered his face with his hands, and his
lips moved inaudibly.

He was asking for a blessing on the new life, and there was something
like a tear in his eye and a suspicious huskiness in his voice as he
called out "Come in" in answer to a hurried knock at the door and
flung open the lid of a grand piano which was littered with music and
songs, running his hands over the keys and smiling a little.

The piano was to be a surprise: Bella knew nothing about it.

Perhaps it would keep her more at home, for she was very fond of
music.

It had cost more than he ought to have paid, but still it was for
her.

"Come in, Mrs. Brewer--what is it? I'm just off. You will have us
both here to-morrow at this time for good and all, I hope."