or Arezzo says it's no use my going on. He'll never be able to make
anything of my voice. I've been at the Coll. two terms, and tried my
best, but he says it's futile--I'm only fit to warble in a small
drawing-room to friends who are not over-critical, and it's a waste of
money to stop on here!"

This was indeed a blow. It was a very crushed, disappointed, miserable
little Rosemary who returned to the bosom of her bewildered family. At
first they would not believe the severe decision, and passed through the
stages of denial, indignation, and annoyance to realization and
resignation. It is so very humiliating to find out that your swan, about
whom you have cackled so proudly, turns out to be only an ordinary,
domestic, farm-yard bird after all.

Evidently the first thing to be done was to comfort Rosemary. She needed
it badly. She went about the house a pathetic little figure, with big
wistful eyes.

"I'm heart-broken, Muvvie!" she sobbed in confidence.

"Never mind, darling; we want you at home if they don't want you at the
College! You can go in for V.A.D. work, and help at the Red Cross
Hospital. It's delightful for me to have my daughter back. You don't
know how I shall appreciate your company!"

"But I feel I'm such a failure!"

"Not at all! You simply haven't slipped into your right niche yet.
People sometimes make bad shots before they find their vocations. Cheer
up! Your singing is a great pleasure to us, if it's not fit for a
concert platform."

"I never want to sing another note in all my life!" declared Rosemary.

Little by little details of the tragedy leaked out. Lorraine heard many
of them, sitting on her sister's bed, while Rosemary ruefully unpacked
the boxes of music and the tea-things and all the other treasured
trifles she had taken to the College.

"He says I haven't the physique for a singer. I've not got enough 'puff'
in my lungs. You should see Maudie Canning, his favourite pupil. She has
the most enormous chest, and such a throat! Just look at mine!"
(Rosemary was examining herself in the glass as she spoke.) "It stands
to reason, if an organ hasn't proper pipes and bellows, it can't sound.
You want such a big voice to fill a concert-hall."

"But couldn't you go on with music just for yourself?"

"Signor Arezzo doesn't care to bother with amateurs. His time is so
valuable that he gives it all to promising students only. No, I've quite
made up my mind never to sing again! Don't argue w