d. Appreciation was the very hunger of Tom's small life,
and here was a chance!

"I ought to apologize," he said, airily, "and I will, if you will allow
me."

Mrs. Redmain said nothing, only waited with her eyes. They were calm,
reposeful eyes, not fixed, scarcely lying upon Tom. It was chilling,
but he was not easily chilled when self was in the question--as it
generally was with Tom. He felt, however, that he must talk or be lost.

"I have taken the liberty," he said, "of bringing you the song I had
the pleasure--a greater pleasure than you will readily imagine--of
hearing you admire the other evening."

"I forget," said Hesper.

"I would not have ventured," continued Tom, "had it not happened that
both air and words were my own."

"Ah!--indeed!--I did not know you were a poet, Mr.--"

She had forgotten his name.

"That or nothing," answered Tom, boldly.

"And a musician, too?"

"At your service, Mrs. Redmain."

"I don't happen to want a poet at present--or a musician either," she
said, with just enough of a smile to turn the rudeness into what Tom
accepted as a flattering familiarity.

"Nor am I in want of a place," he replied, with spirit; "a bird can
sing on any branch. Will you allow me to sing this song on yours? Mrs.
Downport scarcely gave the expression I could have desired.--May I read
the voices before I sing them?"

Without either intimacy or encouragement, Tom was capable of offering
to read his own verses! Such fools self-partisanship makes of us.

Mrs. Redmain was, for her, not a little amused with the young man; he
was not just like every other that came to the house.

"I should li-i-ike," she said.

Tom laid himself back a little in his chair, with the sheet of music in
his hand, closed his eyes, and repeated as follows--he knew all his own
verses by heart:

"Lovely lady, sweet disdain!
Prithee keep thy Love at home;
Bind him with a tressed chain;
Do not let the mischief roam.

"In the jewel-cave, thine eye,
In the tangles of thy hair,
It is well the imp should lie--
There his home, his heaven is there.

"But for pity's sake, forbid
Beauty's wasp at me to fly;
Sure the child should not be chid,
And his mother standing by.

"For if once the villain came
To my house, too well I know
He would set it all aflame--
To the winds its ashes blow.

"Prithee keep thy Love at home;
Net him up or he will start;