He told Aubrey the news, and Aubrey mentioned it in his letter to me." Dick looked grave.
"Well then," he said, "old Ronnie is in an even worse case than I feared.

I think we should go at once and look him up.

I told my friend's chauffeur to wait; so, if further advice is needed to-night, we can send the car straight back to town with a message.

Where is Ronnie ?" "He took his 'cello, and went off to the studio.

I heard him shut the door." "Show me the way," said Dr.Dick.
With his hand on the handle of the sitting-room door, he paused.
"I suppose you--er--feel quite able to forgive poor old Ronnie, now ?" he asked.
The yearning anguish in Helen's eyes made answer enough.
They crossed the hall together; but--as they passed down the corridor leading to the studio--they stopped simultaneously, and their eyes sought one another in silent surprise and uncertainty.
The deep full tones of a 'cello, reached them where they stood; tones so rich, so plaintively sweet, so full of passion and melody, that, to the anxious listeners in the dimly lighted corridor, they gave the sense of something weird, something altogether uncanny in its power, unearthly in its beauty.
They each spoke at the same moment.
"It cannot be Ronnie," they said.
"It must be Ronnie," amended Helen.