ith me! It's no use,
and only makes me feel irritable. I tell you I'm heart-broken!"

It was terrible to have Rosemary in such a disconsolate mood. It seemed
to throw a blight over the whole family. Lorraine was immensely
concerned. In her trouble she turned instinctively to the studio by the
harbour. Margaret Lindsay, who herself had weathered many troubles, was
an expert in the art of comfort.

"Rosemary's heart is broken!" said Lorraine tragically, sitting on the
window-seat in the sunshine, and squeezing her friend's arm.

"Poor child! Tell her that some of the best things in the world have
been done on broken hearts! She's very young yet, and I'm sure she's
wanted at home."

"That's what Mother says."

"And perhaps she mightn't have liked public singing. It isn't all
applause and bouquets. I know several professionals, and they talk of
long, weary railway journeys, and uncomfortable hotels, and many
disagreeables that show a very shady lining to the life. Somehow I can
far more easily fancy little Rosemary happily married and settled down
in a home of her own, than touring about to concerts. You mustn't let
her give up her singing! She'll make a most delightful amateur."

"She scorns the word 'amateur'."

"She's feeling sore at present, but she'll get over that stage, I hope.
I'm not sure if an amateur hasn't infinitely the best of it. I often
wish I were an amateur artist. You skim the cream in the matter of
enjoyment, without any of the responsibility. In six months I hope
Rosemary will think differently, and will be the star of the musical
parties at Porthkeverne, if she can't shine on the stage."

"It's a come-down for her, all the same," groaned Lorraine. "I wish she
could marry a duke! But no dukes ever come to Porthkeverne. Perhaps she
won't marry at all. Some of the nicest people I know haven't married."

Margaret Lindsay looked out far away over the dancing, gleaming water
before she answered; Lorraine could not see the shadow in her eyes.

"Sometimes it's the person whom you _don't_ marry whom you love the
most: the beautiful ideal is never shattered by the actual--it stays up
in the clouds always, instead of trailing down to earth."

Lorraine was lost in contemplation of her sister's future prospects.

"If she doesn't marry, she'll have to brace up and go in for some other
vocation," she decided. "Miss Kingsley says one ought to look years
ahead, but somehow I can't imagine Rosemary ever bei