rter downstairs. We shall have to go about alone, so the
sooner we puzzle it out the better. Yes, do come, Phil! If you don't,
I shall probably run away as soon as I've rung the bell. Will she be
very formidable, do you think?"

Philippa did not know, could not conjecture. Professional singers
existed for her only on the programmes of concerts. She had never heard
one more celebrated than Miss James, the singing-mistress from Coventry.
Sometimes, she believed, they were paid fabulous prices for singing;
but Minnie Caldecott did not seem to come in the first rank. Perhaps
she, like themselves, was struggling to make her name.

The girls found their way to Hampstead with wonderfully little trouble;
but it was more difficult to find Mayfield Rood, and they wandered about
for half-an-hour before discovering its whereabouts. It was not an
attractive situation; neither was the house a palatial residence; and
though Miss Caldecott was "at home" as usual, the costume of the
servant-maid left much to be desired. She led the way down a narrow
entrance-hall, and showed the visitors into a room at the back of the
house, saying that Miss Caldecott would be with them in a few minutes'
time.

It was barely half-past three, yet two lamps were already burning under
elaborate pink shades, and there was a profusion of flowers on the
mantelpiece and on the small tables with which the floor was crowded.
The piano stood open, with a litter of torn sheets on the top, and there
were photographs--photographs everywhere--of extraordinary-looking
people, who all seemed to write their names underneath with fat
quill-pens and many dashes. The lady with the little ring in the middle
of her forehead was "Mabs;" the one swinging in a hammock was "Bella;"
"Fanny" smirked from a bower of palms, and wore ropes and ropes of
pearls round her neck. There was a framed photograph on the wall with a
signature like the rest. From across the room Hope recognised a
familiar name, and was about to rise to study it close at hand, when
swish-swish came the rustle of silken skirts, the door opened, and Miss
Caldecott herself made her appearance.

CHAPTER SIX.

HOPE'S FIRST VENTURE.

Miss Caldecott was tall and stout, had wavy hair and arched eyebrows,
and wore a slightly _decollete_ gown of blue silk, a trifle soiled if
you looked at it in a critical spirit, but wonderfully elaborate and
becoming. The broad, beaming face was young, and but for