Apparently he appreciated her feelings. "That’s very pretty of you," he said. "It fits my little finger, too. Would you rather I took it?" There was a shade of reluctance in his voice. "Much rather." "Well, thank you very much. Now I must pull you through by a little teaching. Can you have your first lesson now? No time like the present, is there? Stand in the corner over there to the right. Now, sing ’ah’ on middle C. Keep your tongue well down. Give it room—give it room! Swell it out! You’ll do very well," he said, after ten minutes. "To-morrow, same time. I’ll drop Haines a line. Don’t thank me, please." Another girl came in as Alexandra went out. She heard Norburton tell her she was early. "Have you heard from Mr. ——" She thought the name mentioned was Haines, but argued she must have been mistaken. The girl was fair and short, not at all the type Norburton’s friend wanted. Alexandra assumed she must be one of the singer’s private pupils, and thought no more about her. For the next four days she came for her lessons, and at the end of that time Norburton told her he was quite satisfied with the result. "Haines will be here to-morrow at eleven," he told her. "Don’t worry, you’ll get the engagement." All the same she did worry. She pinned her hopes on it. She had curtailed her food down to the irreductible minimum. Privation showed in her looks. She was not a big eater, but her physique demanded good and nourishing food, which now she never got. She wanted new shoes and gloves badly. These she could not manage to do without indefinitely. She began to lose confidence in herself in these days. She knew her appearance was noticeably shabby, and that she was getting the delicate look that employers dislike. One cannot say to the man from whom one is hoping for an engagement: "I’m pale, but I’ll look better when I can afford to feed myself properly. My clothes are shabby, but they would be in rags if I hadn’t looked after them as if they were priceless brocades. And I’m not poor and hungry and out of an engagement because I’ve no talent, but because I’ve certain principles that I’ve brought to the wrong place. Give me a chance and don’t ask anything else of me." At five minutes to eleven the next day she was in Shaftesbury Avenue. Outside Mr. Norburton’s door some ten or twelve girls were waiting. They looked a mixed lot, all of them anxious, poor and shabby. "He told me ten," said one of them, "and he’s not here yet." "I’ve been here since half-past nine," said another. One bold spirit rapped sharply on the door. As a result one next to it bearing a brass plate and a solicitor’s name was opened and a man put his head out and angrily demanded: "Who’s making that row? If you’re waiting to see the fellow who had that room, he’s gone. Went away yesterday afternoon." "Meaning Mr. Norburton?" asked one of the girls.