Great baskets of roses were handed to her as she came down from the platform and my confusion was multiplied by their number for I had not thought to bring any myself. I turned to Uncle Eb who, now and then, had furtively wiped his eyes. 'My stars!' he whispered, 'ain't it reemarkable grand! Never heard ner seen nothin' like thet in all my born days. An' t' think it's my little Hope.' He could go no further. His handkerchief was in his hand while he took refuge in silence. Going home the flowers were heaped upon our laps and I, with Hope beside me, felt some restoration of comfort. 'Did you see Trumbull?' Mrs Fuller asked. 'He sat back of us and did seem to enjoy it so much--your singing. He was almost cheerful. 'Tell me about Mr Trumbull,' I said. 'He is interesting. 'Speculator,' said Mrs Fuller. 'A strange man, successful, silent, unmarried and, I think, in love. Has beautiful rooms they say on Gramercy Park. Lives alone with an old servant. We got to know him through the accident. Mr Fuller and he have done business together--a great deal of it since then. Operates in the stock market. A supper was waiting for us at home and we sat a long time at the table. I was burning for a talk with Hope but how was I to manage it? We rose with the others and went and sat down together in a corner of the great parlour. We talked of that night at the White Church in Faraway when we heard Nick Goodall play and she had felt the beginning of a new life. 'I've heard how well you did last year,' she said, 'and how nice you were to the girls. A friend wrote me all about it. How attentive you were to that little Miss Brown! 'But decently polite,' I answered. 'One has to have somebody or--or be a monk. 'One has to have somebody!' she said, quickly, as she picked at the flower on her bosom and looked down at it soberly. 'That is true one has to have somebody and, you know, I haven't had any lack of company myself. By the way, I have news to tell you. She spoke slowly and in a low voice with a touch of sadness in it. I felt the colour mounting to my face. 'News!' I repeated. 'What news, I-lope? 'I am going away to England,' she said, 'with Mrs Fuller if--if mother will let me. I wish you would write and ask her to let me go. I was unhorsed. What to say I knew not, what it meant I could vaguely imagine. There was a moment of awkward silence. 'Of course I will ask her if you wish to go,' I said. 'When do you sail? 'They haven't fixed the day yet. She sat looking down at her fan, a beautiful, filmy thing between braces of ivory. Her knees were crossed, one dainty foot showing under ruffles of lace. I looked at her a moment dumb with admiration. 'What a big man you have grown to be Will,' she said presently. 'I am almost afraid of you now.