d judge, to be wrong--both ways."
Hesitatingly: "Why not sing for me? I'd like to hear."

"Would you tell me what you honestly thought?" said Mildred.

Mrs. Brindley laughingly shook her head. Mildred liked her honesty.
"Then it'd be useless to sing for you," said she. "I'm not vain about
my voice. I'd simply like to make a living by it, if I could. I'll
even confess that there are many things I care for more than for music.
Does that prove that I can never sing professionally?"

"No, indeed," Mrs. Brindley assured her. "It'd be strange if a girl of
your age cared exclusively for music. The passion comes with the work,
with progress, success. And some of the greatest--that is, the most
famous and best paid--singers never care much about music, except as a
vanity, and never understand it. A singer means a person born with a
certain shape of mouth and throat, a certain kind of vocal chords. The
rest may be natural or acquired. It's the instrument that makes the
singer, not brains or temperament."

"Do let me sing for you," said Mildred. "I think it will help me."

Between them they chose a little French song--"Chanson d'Antonine"--and
Mrs. Brindley insisted on her playing her own accompaniment. "I wish
to listen," said she, "and I can't if I play."

Mildred was surprised at her own freedom from nervousness. She sang
neither better nor worse than usual--sang in the clear and pleasant
soprano which she flattered herself was not unmusical. When she
finished she said:

"That's about as I usually sing. What do you think?"

Mrs. Brindley reflected before she replied: "I BELIEVE it's worth
trying. If I were you, I should keep on trying, no matter what anyone
said."

Mildred was instantly depressed. "You think Mr. Jennings may reject
me?" she asked.

"I KNOW he will not," replied Mrs. Brindley. "Not as long as you can
pay for the lessons. But I was thinking of the real thing--of whether
you could win out as a singer."

"And you don't think I can?" said Mildred.

"On the contrary, I believe you can," replied Mrs. Brindley. "A singer
means so much besides singing. The singing is the smallest part of it.
You'll understand when you get to work. I couldn't explain now. But I
can say that you ought to go ahead."

Mildred, who had her share of vanity, had hoped for some enthusiasm.
Mrs. Brindley's judicial tone was a severe blow. She felt a little
resentful, began to cast about for vanity-consoling