Theo's arm pressed tenderly against the heaving shoulder. "I think," she said quietly--"I think you did what seemed to you best at the time, and what was very hard to do; and that, having done it, you must not regret. When you have chosen the narrow way, dear, you must not look back." "No," said Hope faintly; "but still--I can't--help--regretting. It is cowardly, Theo, but he was so--I liked him so very much. Do you think it is all over--that I shall never see him again?" "He can see you at his sister's next month if he wishes to. Try to put him out of your mind until then. Work hard, and let off steam to me when you feel particularly blue. This new plan is going to be a success; I feel convinced of it." Theo was too prudent to give more definite comfort, but when by herself she laughed scornfully at the idea that a solitary refusal could discourage a true lover. If this Mr Merrilies had been simply attracted by a pretty face, and was likely to forget the fancy as quickly as it was formed, why, then, the less Hope thought of him the better. But the artless narrative had given Theo a different impression of his feelings. Dear, modest Hope had no idea of her own winsome charm, but her sister felt it impossible that a man of taste could live in the same house, learn the unselfish sweetness of her disposition, share in her light-hearted gaiety, and watch the different emotions flit over her face as she sang, and still call his heart his own. "If he is a thousand times all she thinks him, he is not good enough for Hope," she told herself proudly. "But oh, what a comfort it would be if she married happily, and had no need to fight for her bread! She is too sensitive to bear the `heart-breaking' that is my apprenticeship." The slow tears rose in Theo's eyes and trickled on to the pillow. The "worrying story" had been returned for the third time. It was looking quite dog-eared and shabby! CHAPTER FIFTEEN. ENTER THE HERMIT. The next morning Hope and Theo seated themselves at the piano, and tried over the songs which were to be included in the musical recital. The words had been written to fit certain tunes, but on singing them over little hitches and awkwardnesses were discovered, which made it necessary to reconstruct certain lines or introduce a new word for an old. As Philippa sat darning stockings in the dining-room, she smiled to herself at the sound of the disconnected snatches of song and the monotonous repetition of airs which were in such strange contrast to the classical music in which Hope delighted. All the same, the refrains were very catching; and when the "Giant's Song" was practised in its turn, Philippa found herself instinctively swelling the chorus, and emphasising the last words of the lines in merry, schoolgirl fashion: "Whether he be alive, or whether he be _dead_, I'll have his _bones_ to make my _bread_!"