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volume of the “Family Herald,” and a bound book of music, for her entertainment. At last, however, the claims of the family and lodgers downstairs could no longer be ignored, and, with a parting commendation of the piano to their attention, she disappeared.

“I wish we could do something for her,” said Alice. “She is really so very attentive. Paying the bills seems a very small return for her kindness.”

“Well, sing something for her. I often hear you practising the scales when you think I am not listening, and this would be a good beginning.”

“Ah! I found a song in this old book that I have not seen for ages. It was the song I meant to make my début with at that ill-fated concert, and poor dear old Piper always said it was my best. How patiently he used to listen to me trying it over, time after time! I often think, Clare, that the best thing I can do is to go back to London and spend the rest of my life in trying over songs with the professor. Music is a great comfort, and I should be useful to one person at all events.”

“Take care you don’t spoil your own life and some one else’s too, Alice,” said Clare, with great seriousness. “Don’t throw away your happiness for a childish pique.”