ppleton had such a sudden, illogical desire to meddle with her
career, to help or hinder it, to have a hand in it at any rate, that
he could hardly hold his tongue.

"The Torquay concert will be charming, I hope. You know what
Spalding's violin-playing is, and Donald Tovey is a young genius at
piano-playing and composing. He is going to accompany me in some of
his own songs, and he wants me to sing a group of American
ones--Macdowell, Chadwick, Nevin, Mrs. Beach, and Margaret Lang."

"I hope you'll accompany yourself in some of your own ballads!"

"No, the occasion is too grand; unless they should happen to like me
very much. Then I could play for myself, and sing 'Allan Water,' or
'Believe Me,' or 'Early One Morning,' or 'Barbara Allen.'"

(Appleton wondered if a claque of sizable, trustworthy boys could be
secured in Torquay, and under his intelligent and inspired leadership
carry Miss Thomasina Tucker like a cork on the wave of success.)

"Wouldn't it be lunch-time?" asked Miss Tucker, after a slight pause.

"It is always time for something when I'm particularly enjoying
myself," grumbled Appleton, looking at his watch. "It's not quite one
o'clock. Must we go in?"

"Oh, yes; we've ten minutes' walk,"--and Tommy scrambled up and began
to brush sand from her skirts.

"Couldn't I sit at your table--under the chaperonage of the Bishop of
Bath and Wells?" And Appleton got on his feet and collected Tommy's
books.

The girl's laugh was full-hearted this time. "Certainly not," she
said. "What does Bexley Sands know of the bishop and his interest in
us? But if you can find the drawing-room utterly deserted at any time,
I'll sing for you."

"How about a tea-basket and a walk to Gray Rocks at four o'clock?"
asked Appleton as they strolled toward the hotel.

"Charming! And I love singing out of doors without accompaniment. I'm
determined to earn that sovereign in course of time! Are you from New
England?"

"Yes; and you?"

"Oh, I'm from New York. I was born in a row of brown-stone fronts, in
a numbered street, twenty-five or thirty houses to a block, all
exactly alike. I wonder how I've outlived my start. And you?"

"In the country, bless it,--in the eastern part of Massachusetts. We
had a garden and my mother and I lived in it during all the months of
my life that matter. That's where the mignonette grew."

"'And He planted a garden eastward in Eden,'" quoted Tommy, half to
herself.

"It's the only Eden I e