Not many days after, there came to him a letter from Mrs. Frothingham.  With this lady he had held no communication since the catastrophe of last November; knowing not how to address her without giving more pain than his sympathy could counterbalance, he remained silent.  She wrote from the neighbourhood of Swiss Cottage, where she had taken a flat; it was her wish, if possible, to see him ‘on a matter of business’, and she requested that he would make an appointment.  Much wondering in what business of Mrs. Frothingham’s he could be concerned, Harvey named his time, and went to pay the call.  He ascended many stairs, and was conducted by a neat servant-maid into a pleasant little drawing-room, where Mrs. Frothingham rose to receive him.  She searched his face, as if to discern the feeling with which he regarded her, and her timid smile of reassurance did not lack its pathos.

‘Mr. Rolfe, it seems years since I saw you.’

She was aged a little, and her voice fell in broken notes, an unhappy contrast to the gay, confident chirping of less than twelve months ago.

’I have only been settled here for a week.  I thought of leaving London altogether, but, after all, I had to come backwards and forwards so often, —­ it was better to have a home here, and this little flat will just suit me, I think.’

She seemed desirous of drawing attention to its modest proportions.

’I really don’t need a house, and lodgings are so wretched.  These flats are a great blessing —­ don’t you think?  I shall manage here with one servant, only one.’

Rolfe struggled with the difficulty of not knowing what to say.  There was nothing for it but to discourse as innocently as might be on the advantages of flats, their increasing popularity, and the special charms of this particular situation.  Mrs. Frothingham eagerly agreed with everything, and did her best to allow no moment of silence.

‘You have heard from Miss Frothingham, I think?’ she presently let fall, with a return of anxiety.

‘Not very long ago.  From Leipzig.’

’Yes.  Yes. —­ I don’t know whether she will stay there.  You know she is thinking of taking up music professionally? —­ Yes.  Yes. —­ I do so hope she will find it possible, but of course that kind of career is so very uncertain.  I’m not sure that I shouldn’t be glad if she turned to something else.’

The widow was growing nervous and self-contradictory.  With a quick movement of her hands, she suddenly resumed in another tone.

’Mr. Rolfe, I do so wish you would let me speak to you in confidence.  I want to ask your help in a most delicate matter.  Not, of course, about my step-daughter, though I shall have to mention her.  It is something quite personal to myself.  If I could hope that you wouldn’t think it tiresome —­ I have a special reason for appealing to you.’

He would gladly, said Harvey, be of any use he could.