She smiled half grimly. "As a matter of fact, I have a suite of rooms engaged at the inn at Enderby for the last two weeks in June and for July and August, though I never dreamed of any such complication, as you know. Like as not we all—you and Elsie and I—can occupy them now—I can telegraph presently. Dear me, dear me! what a pair of thoughtless scamps these children were. And yet—what hasn't it meant to me to know Elsie? Oh, Mrs. Moss, I can't face giving her up. I simply cannot face it."

"Of course, Mr. Middleton is her guardian," remarked Mrs. Moss, who sympathized with Miss Pritchard, but felt she might remember that she had had to part with Elsie a year ago, after having had her from a child. "He seems like one who would do the right thing," she added, "but of course he was devoted to Elsie's mother."

"No doubt he'll be glad to hand over little Pritchard to me?"

"Well, he seemed attached to her. But of course being a clergyman he may judge her very severely."

"I wish we could all go to Enderby this very moment," cried Miss Pritchard impatiently. "If it weren't for that old movie-show!"

Then the other forgot Enderby. "Oh, Miss Pritchard, tell me, is Elsie very deeply concerned?" she asked anxiously.

Miss Pritchard related the matter in detail. Mrs. Moss was distressed beyond words, though she was cheered when the other repeated Madame Valentini's dictum in regard to the girl's voice, and the yet more authoritative word of Mr. Francis. And then and there the two women who cared deeply for one little girl decided that that night should close her theatrical career, not only for the season but forever. And they added that whatever be the outcome of the conference at Enderby, Elsie must begin in the late summer or early autumn to study with the teacher in Boston recommended by Mr. Francis.

"The child has actually grown rich overnight," observed Miss Pritchard. "She has saved all she has earned and if need be could pay for her own lessons for a time at least. But I should like nothing better than to retire and take her to live in some quiet place near Boston, and then go abroad with her when the time comes. I've got enough to do that and yet do something for that girl at Enderby."

She paused in her pacing, sat down suddenly and frowned deeply.

"There's no use," she groaned. "That Mr. Middleton will take her away from me, mark my word. What sort of a man is he, anyhow?"