In the evening there was music, for the Cossarts were fond of singing and had good voices, though they had only been trained by local teachers, and lacked finish and culture. Cyril was the exception. He had been a chorister in his boyhood, and had been carefully taught both at school and afterwards. He generally declined to assist at the family concert; but to-night he sang several times, and got Sheila to sing duets with him, though she told him she had no voice, and was only good at playing accompaniments. It was true that her voice was not powerful, but it was very sweet in tone, and had been carefully cultivated by a good master. Cyril appreciated this, and Sheila enjoyed his approval and friendliness; and went to bed feeling more cheered and less lonely than she would have believed it possible. The next day was a very interesting and rather exciting one, for they were both taken to the works by their uncle and North, and Oscar was shown something of what was expected of him in the future. There was to be a good deal of desk-work at first, which was not much to his taste; but he was to receive training in the electrical branch which was being established in connection with the works, so that when the new buildings were opened, he would be able to take a position there as assistant manager. Meantime it was essential that he should learn the routine of office work and book-keeping; and he assented to the drudgery willingly, his common sense telling him that there was nothing like beginning at the bottom of the ladder. He had seen too much of the evil effects of not understanding business not to be ready and willing to acquire the power himself of understanding it thoroughly. “North is a capital fellow,” he said to Sheila that night, following her into her room for a talk in private; for in that busy, merry household there was little time for confidential conversation, and Sheila had been taken possession of all the afternoon by her girl-cousins, and introduced right and left to a bewildering number of their friends. “He isn’t one to make professions; but I know he’ll do what he can to help me. It will be dull work, some of it, and I may be rather stupid at it; but I mean to do my best, and get on if I can.” “I hope you will. I think they all mean to be kind; but, Oscar, do you call our cousins—well, what shall I say? If we had met them at home, do you think we should have called them quite ladies and gentlemen—except Cyril?” Oscar laughed, and made a little expressive grimace.