But she was looking forward to a great treat that afternoon. Paderewski was playing at St. James’s Hall, and she and Pauline were going early to get seats. They would have to wait two hours or so, and might have to stand after all, but to Rose that was part of the afternoon’s enjoyment. She had quite agreed with Pauline that it would be foolish to go to the expense of taking their tickets beforehand. She opened the door with her latch-key--that latch-key still gave her a thrill of proud delight when she used it--and went in. Pauline called to her from her room. “Rosie, is that you, dearest? I want to speak to you.” Rose put down her violin and crossed the tiny entry. Pauline was standing before her looking-glass doing her hair. She wore a soiled pink dressing-jacket elaborately trimmed with lace, and Rose observed with a little shock that there were holes in the heels of her stockings. It was not quite such a shock as it would have been a fortnight ago. Rose had discovered that Pauline was very careless about little matters of this sort. On the bed was spread out her last new dress--a charming combination of brown and gold, to be worn with a brown hat lined with yellow. “Why, Pauline, you won’t wear that dress this afternoon, will you?” asked Rose, glancing at it. “It will get so crushed.” “My Rose, shall you be very disappointed? Madame Verney has asked me to go with her. She had two tickets sent her, and Monsieur Verney had to go to Paris this morning. I am going there to lunch. How I wish you were going with me, darling! But I could not refuse when Madame Verney asked me, could I? I might have offended her.” The tears had rushed into Rose’s eyes, but she drove them back. “I daresay Paderewski will play again before I go,” she said. “And it was kind of Madame Verney to ask you.” “Oh, as to kindness, she would have found it dull enough to go by herself, and she knows nobody in London yet. But what do you mean about Paderewski playing again, Rosie? You’ll go and hear him this afternoon, won’t you? I never thought of your staying at home.” “I promised Aunt Lucy I would not go to a concert by myself,” Rose answered hastily. “I couldn’t go, Pauline.” “But she meant in the evening, Rosie. She couldn’t mind your going this afternoon. Don’t be a silly child. You’ll spoil my pleasure if you stay at home. Of course you must go.” “Oh, I couldn’t,” returned Rose. “I promised Aunt Lucy. Besides”-- “You little country mouse!” laughed Pauline. “I believe you are afraid to go. Who do you think would eat you? Never mind, there is ‘The Golden Legend’ at the Albert Hall on Thursday. We’ll go to that. But I must be quick; I promised to be there early. Rosie, be my good angel, and clean my shoes for me. You’ll find the stuff in that box. I can’t trust Mrs. Richards with my kid shoes. No, not that box, darling, the one below it.”