"Aweel, my dear, don't fret. Maybe they will come some time." And kind-hearted Marion began to consider the possibility of herself paying for some music-lessons for her young friend. The grand instrument in the drawing-room made the school-room piano seem worse than ever by contrast, and Rhoda was easily persuaded to use it over and over again. "But I will never touch it after I have learned this piece, I am determined I won't," said Rhoda to herself as she walked homeward after her visit to Miss Brown. "I must learn this piece, so as to show Isa. I am sure she will never get through it alone. Oh dear! I don't care; I do think it is a real abominable shame that I should be used so. I wish I should have been just like the others then. I should not have found out what was in me. And to think, after all, when they could afford to educate me as well as not, they should cast me off for the sake of that miserable baby! It was not his fault, either, poor little fellow! I am sure I don't wish him any ill, but I wish he had never been born, or else that I never had. I think that would be best of all." And Rhoda pulled down her veil to hide the hot tears which would gush out in spite of her. "What's the matter, my dear?" asked Marion, her quick eye perceiving at once that something was wrong. "Nothing," said Rhoda; "only I wish there was no such person as I am, that's all." "Aweel, there's no use wishing that now, ye ken. A man canna unmake himself by any process that ever I heard of. Best wish for something you have a chance of getting. But what ails ye, lassie? Come, tell me, and ease your mind." Rhoda poured out all her grief in a flood. Marion listened with patience and sympathy. "I'll no deny but it's a hard case," said she. "But, my lass, will you let me tell you one thing? And that's this: if ye mean to give up these music-lessons—and I'm no easy in my own mind about them—but if ye make up your mind to give them up, do it at once. Dinna wait to learn one more tune, no, nor one note more. It's like the poor drunkard that says he will take only one cup more, and that one cup more is just the ruin of him." "But I do so want to learn this one piece," said Rhoda. "It suits me exactly, and I am sure Isa will never learn it unless I help her." "Let every herring hang by its own head," said Marion. "You are not Isa's keeper. I said I was no easy in my mind about these lessons, and I'm not. I heard a grand sermon last Sunday on lying and leasing-making, and I have been thinking we have all been to blame in this matter; myself, maybe, worst of all. Come, don't cry any more, but wash your eyes and be ready to wait at dinner."