"I suppose there are some women great enough to have a career and to
marry besides," she added so solemnly that Miss Adams did not dare
smile, "but I don't believe I am one of them. And I want a career. Yet
it is odd, isn't it? I don't think I have any special talent and Esther
Crippen is so talented we think she is almost a genius. I wish you could
hear her sing, but she is too afraid of you yet. Nevertheless Esther
does not want to be famous one bit and Betty and I don't even dare
mention the word 'career' before her. I am sure she would much rather
marry some day and have babies and sing to her husband and to them, or
perhaps in a church where no one would think much about her. For she
does love her music for itself."

"But why then does she go on working so intensely, if she does not
intend making a profession of her singing? The poor child is actually
wearing herself out," Miss Adams avowed.

"Why, don't you know?" Polly faced her companion and though it was now
almost entirely dark, they could yet catch the outlines of each other's
faces. "Esther Crippen does not care for money for herself, but she
cares for it beyond anything for Betty. You see, she and Betty were
separated during all their childhood and now that they have found each
other again Esther fairly worships her sister. She is going to earn all
the money she can with her voice so as to be able to lavish on Betty the
things that she used to have when the Ashtons were rich. Of course Betty
does not know that this is the chief reason that is urging Esther to
sacrifice everything in the world for her work. For naturally Betty
thinks that Esther has so wonderful a talent that she ought to wish to
cultivate it for its own sake. And so does their father, Herr Crippen. I
believe he has the feeling that he has failed with his own music, but
that if Esther succeeds in some way it will redeem his failure. In a way
it does seem rather hard upon Esther if she should ever happen to fall
in love."

But before Miss Adams could answer her maid had announced an unexpected
visitor.

CHAPTER XIII

Richard Ashton

Esther Crippen ran out of the front door of their little house with her
coat still on her arm, so great was her hurry.

"Dr. Ashton," she called several times. And at last the young man
striding on ahead turned and glanced back in surprise. Esther was
carrying her usual music roll, a book and a box of lunch which she
always bore into town on her l