Esther left the Clark cottage with the same old little thrill of interest she had felt when Millard had mentioned Bob’s name months before. Now the thrill was a trifle keener, for she was to meet him again. She was not greatly stirred by the prospect; nevertheless it was rather attractive. She found herself thinking about him a good deal in the interval before the rehearsal, wondering if he had changed as greatly as she had, in--oh, so many ways, and if he was succeeding as well with his painting as she with her music. Also she wondered if he had forgotten her. Not that it made any difference, of course, whether he had or not. Her speculations on that score were quickly settled. She was already in the vestry when he entered, chaperoned by Mrs. Wheeler and favored with the giggling confidences of Marjorie, the Wheeler daughter. Mrs. Wheeler beamed upon the assembly. “Well, here we are,” she announced. “Mr. Griffin informs me that he has given a great deal of thought to the dresses and--er--all that sort of thing, you know, and he has brought over several books of costumes for us to look at. I only hope he realizes how _very_ kind we consider it of him. You have all met him, haven’t you? You know every one here, don’t you, Mr. Griffin?” Bob smiled assent. “I think I have that pleasure,” he replied. “I--” Then he paused. Esther, herself a trifle late at the rehearsal, had taken a seat upon one of the rear settees. His eye had caught hers and remained fixed. Mrs. Wheeler noticed the look. “Oh!” she cried. “I did forget, after all, didn’t I? There _is_ one you haven’t met. You weren’t here Saturday, were you, Esther? Bob--” But Bob had not waited for the formal presentation. He was on his way to that rear settee. He held out his hand and Esther took it. “It is all right, Mrs. Wheeler,” she explained. “Mr. Griffin and I have met before.” To Bob she said: “I wondered if you would remember me.” She was a trifle confused, for she was quite conscious that every one was looking at them. Griffin, if he was aware of the look, did not appear to mind it in the least. His evident delight at the meeting was plain for all to see. “Remember?” he repeated. “I should think I did! I was hoping you might be here to-day. Mrs. Wheeler told me you were going to sing at the Concert. I have heard a lot about you, you know. They tell me you are the Patti of the affair.” She laughed and blushed. She wished he would not look at her so intently. The unconcealed surprise and admiration in his look might be flattering, perhaps, but were undoubtedly embarrassing. She withdrew her hand from his and tried to appear unconcerned and dignified. “Oh, hardly that,” she said, lightly. “I am going to take part, just as the others are. You are to select our costumes, for us, aren’t you?”