Tommy had none too much to eat, and, according to her own aesthetic ambitions, nothing at all to wear; but she was busy all day long and absurdly happy. Her income was uncertain, but that was amusing and thrilling rather than pitiful or tragic. She had two or three "steadies" among singers, who gave her engagements as accompanist at small drawing-room recitals or charitable entertainments. There was a stout prima donna whose arias for dramatic soprano kept her practicing until midnight, and a rich young lady amateur who needed a very friendly and careful accompaniment because she sang flat and always lost her breath before the end of a long phrase. The manner in which Tommy concealed these defects was thoroughly ingenious and sympathetic. When Miss Guggenheim paused for breath, Tommy filled the gap with instrumental arabesques; when she was about to flat, Tommy gave her the note suggestively. If she was too dreadfully below pitch, and had breath enough to hang on to the note so long that the audience (always composed of invited guests) writhed obviously, Tommy would sometimes drop a sheet of music on the floor and create a diversion, always apologizing profusely for her clumsiness. The third patron was a young baritone, who liked Miss Tucker's appearance on the platform and had her whenever he didn't sing Schubert's "Erl Koenig," which Tommy couldn't play. This was her most profitable engagement, but it continued alas! for only three months, for the baritone wanted to marry her, and she didn't like him because he was bald and his neck was too fat. Also, she was afraid she would have to learn to play the "Erl Koenig" properly. All this time Tommy was longing to sing in public herself, and trying to save money enough to take more lessons by way of preparation. When she lost the baritone, who was really peevish at being rejected after suiting his programmes to her capacities for a whole season, Tommy conceived a new idea. She influenced Jessie Macleod, who had a fine contralto, and two other girls with well-trained voices, to form a quartette. "We can't get anything to do separately; perhaps we can make a pittance together," she said. "We'll do good simple things; our voices blend well, and if we practice enough there's no reason why we shouldn't sing beautifully." "Singing beautifully is one thing and getting engagements is another," sighed Jessie Macleod. "As if I didn't know that! We can't hope to be superior to other quartettes, so we must be different--unusual, unique--I can't think just how at the moment, but I will before we make our debut." And she did, for Tommy was nothing if not fertile in ideas.