because it
would interfere with her part; and that's all in the tune as much as
any; only we've got to chime in with our parts at the right stroke,
the Lord being Leader. Ain't that about it, Mrs. Ripwinkley?"

"If we are sure of the score, and can catch the sign," said Mrs.
Ripwinkley, thoughtfully.

"Well, I've sung mine; it's only one note; I may have to keep
hammering on it; that's according to how many repeats there are to
be. Mr. Oldways, he ought to know, for one. Amongst us, we have got
to lay our heads together, and work it out. She's a kind of an odd
chicken in that brood; and my belief is she's like the ugly duck
Hazel used to read about. But she ought to have a chance; if she's a
swan, she oughtn't to be trapesed off among the weeds and on the dry
ground. 'Tisn't even ducks she's hatched with; they don't take to
the same element."

"I'll speak to Uncle Titus, and I will think," said Mrs. Ripwinkley.

But before she did that, that same afternoon by the six o'clock
penny post, a little note went to Mr. Oldways:--

"DEAR UNCLE TITUS,--

"I want to talk with you a little. If I were well, I should
come to see you in your study. Will you come up here, and see
me in my room?

"Yours sincerely, DESIRE LEDWITH."

Uncle Titus liked that. It counted upon something in him which few
had the faith to count upon; which, truly he gave few people reason
to expect to find.

He put his hat directly on, took up his thick brown stick, and
trudged off, up Borden Street to Shubarton Place.

When Luclarion let him in, he told her with some careful emphasis,
that he had come to see Desire.

"Ask her if I shall come up," he said. "I'll wait down here."

Helena was practicing in the drawing-room. Mrs. Ledwith lay, half
asleep, upon a sofa. The doors into the hall were shut,--Luclarion
had looked to that, lest the playing should disturb Desire.

Luclarion was only gone three minutes. Then she came back, and led
Mr. Oldways up three flights of stairs.

"It's a long climb, clear from the door," she said.

"I can climb," said Mr. Oldways, curtly.

"I didn't expect it was going to stump _you_," said Luclarion, just
as short in her turn. "But I thought I'd be polite enough to mention
it."

There came a queer little chuckling wheeze from somewhere, like a
whispered imitation of the first few short pants of a steam-engine:
that was Uncle Titus, laughing to himself.

Luclarion looked down