ite it," cried Hope,
stung into retort by the keenness of her disappointment. "Don't you
remember saying you wanted a domestic song about children, to make the
mothers cry? You suggested the words yourself, and we carried out your
idea."

"I suggested it, did I? How clever of me! I suppose I saw you were
disappointed, dear, and wanted to let you down easily. I hate being
disagreeable, but I never thought you would take it seriously. Here!
let me see it. I can tell in a moment if it is any good."

She rose, and standing by the piano, glanced over the pages once or
twice, then motioned to Hope to play the accompaniment. The next moment
the rich, melodious tones filled the room, and Theo held her breath in
rapturous enjoyment. What a glorious organ of a voice--how sweet, how
full, how true! What a melting tenderness of expression! What skill in
seizing on effective phrases and bringing them delicately into
prominence! If her eyes had been shut, what a lovely, spirituelle
vision she would have pictured as the owner of this wonderful voice!
But, alas! there stood Minnie Caldecott, flushed, fat, and tousled,
enveloped in the blue silk tea-gown, which was beginning to show decided
signs of age--as far removed from spirituality as it was possible for a
human creature to be. She sang the song to its last note, and nodded
her head approvingly at its conclusion.

"It is not at all bad, dear. Quite a fetching little song! I could
make them howl over that, couldn't I? And it is different from anything
I have on hand. I might find room for it sometimes, if we could agree
about other things. What was your idea as to terms?"

"Oh, thank you! You ore too kind. I did not think of charging you at
all. It would be an advertisement for me if you sang it, and that would
be sufficient payment."

Hope was fully convinced that she was acting in a generous manner, and
Theo agreed with this conclusion, so that it came as a shock to both
when Miss Caldecott burst into a peal of laughter, and cried loudly,
"Bless your innocent heart! I meant, what are you going to pay _me_?
Didn't you know that we were always paid for taking up a song? That is
why we sing such rubbish half the time. I'm a business woman, and can't
afford to work for nothing. I'd like to oblige you, dear, and it's a
useful little song in its way--I believe I could do something with it--
but I must have my commission."

"Then I am afraid it is no use d