ers, and we've agreed that you may make a very good income for
yourself; though, to be sure, I wish it could have been managed any
other way; but needs must, you know. You're the finest singer in the
universe."

"La!" said Morgiana, highly delighted.

"_I_ never heard anything like you, though I'm no judge. Podmore says he
is sure you will do very well, and has no doubt you might get very good
engagements at concerts or on the stage; and as that husband will never
do any good, and you have a child to support, sing you must."

"Oh! how glad I should be to pay his debts and repay all he has done for
me," cried Mrs. Walker. "Think of his giving two hundred guineas to Mr.
Baroski to have me taught. Was not that kind of him? Do you REALLY think
I should succeed?

"There's Miss Larkins has succeeded."

"The little high-shouldered vulgar thing!" says Morgiana. "I'm sure I
ought to succeed if SHE did."

"She sing against Morgiana?" said Mrs. Crump. "I'd like to see her,
indeed! She ain't fit to snuff a candle to her."

"I dare say not," said the tailor, "though I don't understand the thing
myself: but if Morgiana can make a fortune, why shouldn't she?"

"Heaven knows we want it, Woolsey," cried Mrs. Crump. "And to see her on
the stage was always the wish of my heart:" and so it had formerly been
the wish of Morgiana; and now, with the hope of helping her husband and
child, the wish became a duty, and she fell to practising once more from
morning till night.

One of the most generous of men and tailors who ever lived now promised,
if further instruction should be considered necessary (though that he
could hardly believe possible), that he would lend Morgiana any sum
required for the payment of lessons; and accordingly she once more
betook herself, under Podmore's advice, to the singing school. Baroski's
academy was, after the passages between them, out of the question,
and she placed herself under the instruction of the excellent English
composer Sir George Thrum, whose large and awful wife, Lady Thrum,
dragon of virtue and propriety, kept watch over the master and the
pupils, and was the sternest guardian of female virtue on or off any
stage.

Morgiana came at a propitious moment. Baroski had launched Miss Larkins
under the name of Ligonier. The Ligonier was enjoying considerable
success, and was singing classical music to tolerable audiences; whereas
Miss Butts, Sir George's last pupil, had turned out a complete fa