"You sent me some verses, Mr. Appleton," she said, as the poet moved
away. "I have them safe" (and she touched her bodice), "but I haven't
had a quiet moment to read them."

"Just a little tribute," Appleton answered carelessly. "Are you
leaving? If so, I'll get your flowers into a cab and drive you on."

"No. I am going, quite unexpectedly, to Exeter to-night. Let us sit
down in this corner a moment and I'll tell you. Mr. Tovey has asked me
to substitute for a singer who is ill. The performance is on Monday
and I chance to know the cantata. I shall not be paid, but it will be
a fine audience and it may lead to something; after all, it's not out
of my way in going to Wells."

"Aren't you overtired to travel any more to-night?"

"No, I am treading air! I have no sense of being in the body at all.
Mrs. Cholmondeley, that dark-haired lady you were talking with a
moment ago, lives in Exeter and will take me to her house. And how
nice that I don't have to say good-bye, for you still mean to go to
Wells?"

"Oh, yes! I haven't nearly finished with the cathedral--I shall be
there before you. Can I look up lodgings or do anything for you?"

"Oh, no, thank you. I shall go to the old place where Miss Markham and
I lived before. The bishop and Mrs. Kennion sent us there because
there is a piano, and the old ladies, being deaf, don't mind musical
lodgers. Didn't the concert go off beautifully! Such artists, those
two men; so easy to do one's best in such company."

"It was a triumph! Doesn't it completely efface the memory of the
plate and the pennies?"

"Yes," Tommy answered. "I bear no ill-will to any living creature. The
only flaw is my horrid name. Can't you think of another for me? I've
just had an anonymous note. Hear it!" (taking it from her glove):

DEAR MADAM:

The name of Thomasina Tucker is one of those bizarre
Americanisms that pain us so frequently in England. I fancy you
must have assumed it for public use, and if so, I beg you will
change it now, before you become too famous. The grotesque name
of Thomasina Tucker belittles your exquisite art.

Very truly yours,
A WELL WISHER.

"What do you think of that?"

Appleton laughed heartily and scanned the note. "It is from some
doddering old woman," he said. "The name given you by your sponsors in
baptism to be condemned as a 'bizarre Americanism'!"

"I c