ould test its own strength unaided.

Miss Guggenheim couldn't sing, but she could dress, and she had an
inspiration a week before the concert.

"What are you going to wear, girls?" she asked.

"Anything we have, is the general idea," said Tommy. "Mine is black."

"Mine's blue"--"White"--"Pink!" came from the other three.

"But must you wear those particular dresses? Can't you each compromise
a little so as to look better together?"

"So hard to compromise when each of us has one dress hanging on one
nail; one neck and sleeves filled up for afternoons and ripped out for
evenings!"

"I should get four simple dresses just alike," said Miss Guggenheim,
who had a dozen.

"What if they should hang in our closets unworn and unpaid for?" asked
Jessie Macleod.

"We're sure to get at least one engagement some time or other. Nothing
ventured, nothing have. We ought to earn enough to pay for the
dresses, if we do nothing more,"--and Tommy's vote settled it.

Miss Guggenheim knew people, if she did sing flat, and her
drawing-room was full on the occasion of the debut. Carl Bothwick, a
friend of Tommy's, was in a publishing office, and nobly presented
programmes for the occasion. The quartette had not thought of naming
itself, but Carl had grouped the songs under the heading, "The Singing
Girls," and luckily they liked the idea.

At four o'clock the hum of conversation ceased at the sound of singing
voices in the distance. A sort of processional effect had been Tommy's
suggestion, and the quartette formed in the dressing-room and sang its
way to the audience.

"Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins to rise."

The voices rang high and clear, coming nearer and nearer. All the
words could be heard and understood. The hall portieres divided, and
the girls entered, all in soft gray crepe, gardenias at the belt,
little brimmed hats of black velvet with a single gardenia on the
side, the flowers being the offering of the dramatic soprano, who
loved Tommy. They were young, they were pretty, they sang delightfully
in tune, and with quite bewitching effect. Several ladies fell in love
with them at first sight, and hoped that they would sing for nothing a
few times, "just to get themselves known." They had done nothing else
for two years, so that Tommy said they must be acquainted with the
entire State of New York, though nothing ever came of it. It was a
joyous surprise, then,