"My dear aunt, is he ever with her? He's hunting big game in Ceylon at present. Emmie and I are always happy together. But just now I'm a harassed wretch. I felt I must have a couple of nights with you, and I've really come down here to look up a certain Miss Lascelles who is in your neighbourhood. My accompanist is ill, he's had to go off to Davos—lung trouble—and Miss Lascelles took his place once before. She lives in Winderball. Isn't that your nearest town?" "Yes," said Miss Horatia. "I know whom you mean. Miss Lascelles is the daughter of a doctor there. She makes a living by her music, does she not, but some one told me only last week that she had gone abroad—to Austria, I think. She has obtained some musical post over there." Vernon ran his hand nervously up and down through his hair. "Disaster stares me in the face! I shall have to pelt back to town to-morrow to arrange something." But when the next day came he did not go. Instead, he kept Gentian at the piano every moment of her spare time, and at five o'clock tea he sprang his bomb. "I have been directed down here," he said solemnly; "by my good fairy. I have found my accompanist. Aunt Anne, will you spare Miss Brendon for a week or two? Emmie will gladly put her up. With her, my success in town will be assured. She's a born accompanist." Miss Anne was simply speechless. Nothing more had been said about Gentian's proposed holiday. Miss Horatia had told her sister gruffly that it was too late in the day to save the situation. "He is bowled over, as I knew he would be, by her pretty grace and her music. But it will be one of his passing emotions. Vernon is too fond of his own ease and comfort to mean anything serious." Now Miss Horatia, if feeling startled, did not show it. She smiled at her nephew a little provokingly. "Anything more?" she asked. "Would you like our good cook, and my hunter? Not that I class Miss Brendon with them, but she is here for a purpose and cannot be spared." He waved his hand airily. "She must be spared. You have got on without her for a good many years, and a month at the outside will see me through my recitals. Town will be getting empty very soon. This is my chance, and I am not going to lose it. It would be a sin and shame to keep her down here, whilst I am rushing all over the country and tearing my hair to find somebody who will do for me." "There are hundreds of people in town who will jump at the job," said Miss Horatia, "and any Concert Directoire would find one for you." Vernon got up from his seat. "I mean to have Miss Brendon," he said emphatically. "I shall run away with her, abduct her. It's so easy in these days with a car. She may be going on an errand to the village, a car slows down, a shawl is flung over her head, and it's done. She's dropped in the bottom of the car a helpless heap, and away we go—in London before she is even missed!" "Don't be so ridiculous, Vernon!" "And improper," murmured Miss Anne.