“Oh, Lord, I want something, and I’m hanged if I know what it is.... Only I’m tired of living in a groove. I want to try the big risks. I’m not a stick-in-the-mud....” She herself could not have said whether this ran through her mind in the guise of a prayer or an exclamation. But perhaps it did not especially matter. “I guess when you want a thing,” she had once enunciated, “you pray for it without intending to. In fact you can’t want anything without praying for it every minute of the time you feel you’re wanting it.... As for putting it into words and kneeling down at bedtime, I should say that makes no difference....” But she did not know what she wanted, except that it was to be exciting and full of interest.... She fell asleep gazing vacantly at a framed lithograph on the opposite wall which a shaft of moonlight capriciously illumined. It was a picture of Tennyson reading his _In Memoriam_ to Queen Victoria, the poet, long-haired and impassioned, in an appropriately humble position before his sovereign.... § 5 The following morning a typewritten letter waited her arrival in the basement sitting-room. It bore on the flap the seal of a business firm in London, and Catherine opened it without in the least guessing its contents. It began: MY DEAR CATHIE, You will excuse my writing to you, but this is really nothing but a business letter. I found your address by enquiry at the theatre box-office: the method is somewhat irregular, but I hope you will forgive me. What I want to say is this---- Catherine glanced down the typewritten script and saw the signature at the bottom. It was George Trant. Her face a little flushed, she read on: The Upton Rising Conservative Club, of which I am a member, is giving a concert on May 2nd, in aid of the local hospitals. A friend of mine (and a fellow-member) was so impressed by your playing this evening that he suggested I should ask you to play a pianoforte solo at our projected concert. I cordially agree with his idea, and hope you will be able to accept. I enclose a draft of the musical programme so that you may realize that we are having some really “star” artists down. Bernard Hollins, for instance, has sung at the Queen’s Hall. Please write back immediately in acceptance and let me know the name of the piece you propose to play, so that the programmes can go to press immediately. Excuse haste, as I must catch the 11.30 post. Yours sincerely, GEORGE TRANT. Catherine re-read the letter twice before she commenced to criticize it keenly. Her keen criticism resulted in the following deductions. To begin with: