’She was embittered at first, but is overcoming it.  To tell you the truth, I think she will benefit by this trial.  I don’t like the words that are so often used in cant; I don’t believe that misery does any good to most people —­ indeed, I know very well that it generally does harm.  But Mrs. Abbott seems to be an exception; she has a good deal of character; and there were circumstances —­ well, I will only say that she faces the change in her life very bravely.’

’I do wish I knew her.  But I daren’t ask that.  It’s too much to expect that she could bear to see me and listen to what I have to say.’

‘The less she’s reminded of the past the better, I think.’

’But would it not be possible to do something?  I am told that the sum was about fifteen hundred pounds.  The whole of that I couldn’t restore; but half of it —­ I could afford so much.  Could I offer to do so —­ not directly, in my own name, but through you?’

Harvey reflected, his head and body bent forward, his hands folded together.  In the flat beneath, someone was jingling operetta on a piano not quite in tune; the pertinacious vivacity of the airs interfered with Harvey’s desire to view things seriously.  He had begun to wonder how large a capital Mrs. Frothingham had at her command.  Was it not probable that she could as easily bestow fifteen hundred pounds as the half of that sum?  But the question was unworthy.  If in truth she had set herself to undo as much as possible of the wrong perpetrated by her husband, Mrs Frothingham might well limit her benefactions, be her fortune what it might.

‘I will do whatever you desire,’ he said, with deliberation.  ’I cannot answer for Mrs. Abbott, but, if you wish it, she shall know what you have in mind.’

‘I do wish it,’ replied the lady earnestly.  ’I beg you to put this before her, and with all the persuasion you can use.  I should be very, very glad if she would allow me to free my conscience from a little of this burden.  Only that I dare not speak of it, I would try to convince you that I am doing what my dear husband himself would have wished.  You can’t believe it; no one will ever believe it; even Alma, I am afraid —­ and that is so cruel, so dreadful; but he did not mean to wrong people in this way.  It wasn’t in his nature.  Who knew him better than I, or so well?  I know —­ if he could come back to us ——­’

Her voice broke.  The piano below jingled more vivaciously than ever, and a sound of shrill laughter pierced through the notes.  Afraid to sit silent, lest he should seem unsympathetic and sceptical, Rolfe murmured a few harmless phrases, tending to nervous incoherence.