ight mean failure, and could
only mean gaslight--this, on the present occasion, did tempt her
sorely. Her moods were very various. There were moments of her life
when the gaslight had its charm, and in which she declared to herself
that she was willing to run all the chances of failure for the hope
of success. There were moments in which Mr. Moss loomed less odious
before her eyes. Should she be afraid of Mr. Moss, and fly from
her destiny because a man was greasy? And to this view of her
circumstances she always came at last when her father's condition
pressed itself upon her. The house beside the lake was not her own as
yet, nor would it be her husband's when she was married.

Nor could there be a home for her father there as long as old Mr.
Jones was alive, nor possibly when his son should come to the throne.
For a time he must go to America, and she must go with him. She had
declared to herself that she could not go back to the United States
unless she could go back as a successful singer. For these reasons
she resolved that she would face Mr. Moss bravely and all his
horrors.

"If that gentleman comes here to-morrow at eleven, show him up here,"
she said to the waiter.

"Mr. Moss, ma'am?" the waiter asked.

"Yes, Mr. Moss," she answered in a loud voice, which told the man
much of her story. "Where did that piano come from?" she asked
brusquely.

"Mr. Moss had it sent in," said the man.

"And my father is paying separate rent for it?" she asked.

"What's that, my dear? What's that about rent?"

"We have got this piano to pay for. It's one of Erard's. Mr. Moss has
sent it, and of course we must pay till we have sent it back again.
That'll do." Then the man went.

"It's my belief that he intends to get us into pecuniary
difficulties. You have only got L62 left."

"But you are to have twenty shillings a day till Christmas."

"What's that?"

"According to what he says it will be increased after Christmas. He
spoke of L2 a day."

"Yes; if my singing be approved of. But who is to be the judge? If
the musical world choose to say that they must have Rachel O'Mahony,
that will be all very well. Am I to sing at twenty shillings a day
for just as long as Mr. Moss may want me? And are we to remain here,
and run up a bill which we shall never be able to pay, till they put
us out of the door and call us swindlers?"

"Frank Jones would help us at a pinch if we came to that difficulty,"
said the father.

"I wo