to
think of marriage at all."

"Oh, well, I'd have it done then and wouldn't be everlasting plagued
on the subject," she said with the unreasonableness of irritability.

"Would it not be better though to wait a little while in hopes of a
better choice?"

"But I suppose it will always be the same. Any man at all worth
consideration is sure to be married or at any rate is engaged."

Here was the clue to her irritation. It was that imaginary young lady
of Ernest Breslaw's. Had she been a man, ere this she would have
plunged into vigorous attempt to dislodge that or any other rival, no
matter how assured his position, but being a woman and compelled to
await "The idiot Chance her imperial Fate," the effect of such
suppression on so robust and strenuous a nature was this form of
hysteria.

"Well, what about a struggle for the desire of your heart? Undoubtedly
you have, if well trained, sufficient voice to be a great asset on the
stage, but it would take at the very least two years' hard work under
a good master before it would be in the least fit for public use."

"I'd be twenty-one then."

"You are just at a good age to stand vigorous training."

"But what's the use of talking," she said hopelessly, "you don't know
how mad grandma is against the stage. She says she'd rather see me in
my grave, and I feel I'd never prosper if I went against her."

"Very likely her point of view is founded on hard facts, but training
your voice isn't going on the stage, and in two years, if you are able
to sing decently, perhaps no one will be so anxious as your grandma
that you should be heard,--I've heard of such a case before;" and I
didn't add that two years was a long way ahead for an old woman of
seventy-six, and also for a girl to whom study was not quite a fetich,
and ample time for the or some knight to have come to the rescue.
These thoughts were not for publication, as they might have made me
appear a traitor to the prejudices of one party and the desire of the
other, whereas I was loyal to them both.

"It would be lovely if you could get on the soft side of grandma, but
I'm afraid it's impossible. Fancy being able to sing and please
people, and travel about in nice cities away from dusty, dreary, slow
old Noonoon," said the girl, the crossness melting from her pretty
face and giving place to radiance.

She toyed with some silk scarves of mine, and between whiles said--

"Isn't it funny some people think one thing g