The Charrington girls had never before seen the fair Minnie in the presence of a member of the opposite sex, and the scene which followed filled them with delighted amusement. The lady elaborately prepared herself for the fray, set her hat at a more becoming angle, pulled out the little curls under the veil, and while ostensibly addressing herself to her friends, sent fascinating glances across the room with her big blue eyes. The man hunched his shoulders, screwed up his brows, and looked helplessly miserable and ill at ease. He would have given the world to escape, but the buxom figure barred the way, and he lacked the courage to pass by. There was nothing for it but to sit still until she chose to depart. "Well, I'm thankful I have found you at home after that climb. You must think twice before you go out, when you live in a bird's nest like this. I nearly turned back, but I wanted particularly to see you about some business." She caught Hope's eager glance, and shook her head in reply. "Nothing for you, dear. No more songs just now. I say! you _are_ white. What's the matter? Have you been ill?" "Not ill exactly. We have had an anxious time lately." Hope could not bring herself to speak of Barney to Minnie Caldecott, and her cheeks grew pink even as she spoke, for she knew that she was using the boy's disappearance as a cloak behind which to hide the real trouble which was sapping her strength. Miss Caldecott nodded her head, however, as though she understood all about the matter, and said cheerfully: "Still trying to make your fortune! Better give it up, my dear, and follow my example: I'm going to be married." She threw a deprecatory glance at the Hermit, as though condoling with him on his own late arrival on the scene. "Told you I should come to that before long! Fact is, the public is getting tired of me and running after newer singers, and I must do something to improve my position, so the day is fixed for the third week in January; and on the fifteenth of December Minnie Caldecott gives a grand farewell concert, when all her friends in the profession will give their services for her benefit." "How kind of them!" said Hope. "I hope you will be very happy. But are you really going to retire so soon? Your voice is so fresh still--you are so young--" The bride-elect laughed her large, hearty laugh. "How old should you think I was!" she inquired; and this time she addressed the Hermit in such a marked manner that he could not choose but reply. He looked annoyed, however, and the pedantic manner was at its height as he said shortly, "I am afraid I must confess that I have not thought about the subject at all."