"Yes," said the author quickly. "It will be `copy,' and I want it badly. I have quite a stock of heroes and heroines on hand--fascinating creatures, every one--but I can't think what to do with them! Perhaps one might be a public singer. I've given her a lovely voice already. I'll come, Hope, and make a study of the lady while you discuss business." A few hours later, therefore, behold the two sisters seated in the warm, flower-scented little room, where the portraits of becurled ladies still smirked from the walls, and the presiding goddess dispensed tea, and kept up a stream of cheerful, inconsequent babble. She appeared overjoyed to see her visitors, kissed them effusively, addressed Hope affectionately as "Miss What's-your-name," and declared that she remembered her quite well. "You brought me a song with ridiculous words; and you have all come up to town to make your fortunes. It isn't too easy, is it? I'm supposed to be one of the lucky ones, but it is the solemn truth, my dears, that there are only a few pounds between myself and the workhouse. It is a hand-to-mouth business, and what with cabs and gloves, there is precious little to be made out of these suburban engagements. I shall have to get married one of these days. There is one man now--that is his portrait on the mantelpiece--the one with the big nose! He has been worrying me for years, and I tell him the first time I get a really bad cold on my chest I'll marry him then and there. I could never stand the expense of an illness. Look at that girl laughing! It is your sister, isn't it, dear? What is her name! Theo! I say, how toney! Are you clever too, Theo? What is your line?" "I--write!" replied Theo, shrinking in anticipation of the question which is fraught with so much humiliation to the would-be author. Of course, Miss Caldecott would instantly want to know what she had written and where it could be found, and then how agonising to be obliged to explain that; with the exception of a few stories in a village paper, not a word of her writing had yet appeared in print! Hope came to the rescue with a reply which was at once tactful and diplomatic, since it turned the conversation into the desired channel. "I have been keeping her busy lately. She has been writing children's stories for an entertainment which I am hoping to give. I brought one of the advertisements to show you, as I thought you might be interested." The undisguised yawn with which Miss Caldecott greeted this announcement was the reverse of encouraging; but she read the circular with increasing interest, pronounced the idea to be "rattling good," and wanted to know who was responsible for the design. "I'll have a programme got up like that some day," she declared; but she yawned again when the girls expatiated on the skill of their artist-sister, and interrupted with another question: "Have you written any more songs lately?"