"La-la-la-La! Ta-ta-ta-Ta! Refrain went like that, didn't it? I remember. Pretty change in the second verse. High G sustained in the last bar. I used to bless him when I came to that note. And he is dead, you say? What a pity. So clever, too! Do you compose? You have a musical face." Here was a lead, indeed! Hope flushed with eagerness, and her voice broke with a little nervous tremor. Miss Caldecott was so friendly, so open, so far removed from being formidable that it was impossible to believe that she could refuse her request. "Oh yes, I do. That's what I came to speak to you about to-day. We have come up to London to try to find work, for we are very poor. As you had liked father's songs, I was going to ask if you would be so very, very kind as to try one of mine. I have it with me now. Messrs Holding and Co. published one for me before, and if you liked this, and would promise to sing it, they would be so much more willing to accept it. It is very bold of me to ask. I am horribly nervous, but you are so kind." Miss Caldecott laughed and shook her head. "Not in business matters, dear," she said. "I have to keep my wits about me in business. If you knew the shoals of things I have sent to me! But I hate to say no. Got the song with you, do you say? Strum it over, like a dear, and let me hear how it goes. Sing it too, if you can. I've got a horrid cold." Hope rose eagerly. She had been prepared for this, and was less nervous in playing than in speaking. The piano was delightful; she was tingling to make the most of her opportunity, and played the introductory bars with a dainty finish which brought Miss Caldecott's eyes upon her with an appreciatory flash. She listened in silence to the first verse, nodding her head to and fro, then turned to Philippa with another beaming smile. "Nice little pipe, hasn't she? Sweet and simple like herself. I say! it wouldn't go far in the Albert Hall, would it? Let me try a verse." She put down her hands on either side, lifted herself from her low chair, and went over to the piano. "What are the words? Oh, I can see. Fire away, then, and I'll see what I can make of it. "Pack clouds away, and welcome day-- With night we'll banish sorrow. "Funny words, dear! Where did you get hold of them? It's not bad, you know--not half bad--what I call graceful. Let's try again, and go on to the next verse." This time she drew herself up and sang with careful attention. The full, rich tones of her voice flooded the room, and Hope thrilled with delight at the sound of her own creation. Never--no, never--had she imagined that it could be so charming; and the last verse was the prettiest of all. Surely if Miss Caldecott liked the beginning, she would be enraptured with the end! But, alas! at the conclusion of the second verse Miss Caldecott crossed the room and threw herself on the sofa, with a resounding yawn.