w when to humour a singer and when to pull
him up. But the difficulty is to find an opening. I do hope that I may
not be reduced to giving lessons! That would be a real trial of
patience, and the prospect is so hopelessly limited."

"Oh, you must not give lessons! That would never do," said Ralph,
drawing his brows together in a disapproving frown. That she should
need to work at all was an idea still disagreeably new. "You speak of
becoming an accompanist. What does that mean exactly! Is there an
opening for accompaniment playing, apart from taking a more prominent
place in a programme?"

"Oh yes. Professionals often insist upon having their own accompanists,
for it is so easy for a stranger to spoil their effects. Even among
amateurs they are occasionally required. Suppose a lady gets up a
concert for charity, or gives a musical `At Home,' or has private
theatricals, it is an immense help to have some one who can play for all
the performers alike, improvise a few bars if things go wrong, and fill
up awkward gaps by appropriate `selections.' That is the work which
would suit me best, if I could make a start and become fairly
well-known."

"I see. Yes, as you explain it, there certainly is an opening in that
direction; but forgive me for saying that the position seems too
subordinate for your talent. Why should you not sing yourself? You
would be better paid, and it seems to me that you are very well fitted
to do so."

Hope shook her head with pathetic candour.

"No. My voice is not strong enough. I am a fair amateur, but most
people can find friends to sing for them quite as well as I could do;
and if they hire professionals at all, they want something better--a
beautiful voice like Minnie Caldecott's, for instance. As you said
yourself the day I arrived, it is a fastidious age, and mediocrity
cannot hope for success."

"Did I say that? What a singularly unhappy remark! You must forgive
it, please, because of course I had no idea what was in your mind. I
don't think, however, that you ought to use the word `mediocre.' It is
more a question of appropriateness. Your voice may not be suited for
big entertainments--and, to speak quite frankly, I can hardly imagine
your facing such an ordeal--but surely there are quieter ways of setting
to work. What about children, now--children's parties? My little
nieces have a party every year, and it is a serious business to find a
change from the everl