"A good many of us have to suffer that. She's nothing like as badly
off as you are, my dear girl."

Eve coloured, and kept silence.

"We shall hear of her getting married before long," resumed the
other. "She told me herself that marriage was the scourge of
music-shops--it carries off their young women at such a rate."

"She told you that? It was in one of your long talks together in
London? Patty and you got on capitally together. It was very natural
she shouldn't care much for men like Mr. Dally afterwards."

Hilliard puzzled over this remark, and was on the point of making
some impatient reply, but discretion restrained him. He turned to
Eve's own affairs, questioned her closely about her life in the
tradesman's house, and so their conversation followed a smoother
course. Presently, half in jest, Hilliard mentioned Narramore's
building projects.

"But who knows? It _might_ come to something of importance for me.
In two or three years, if all goes well, such a thing might possibly
give me a start."

A singular solemnity had settled upon Eve's countenance. She spoke
not a word, and seemed unaccountably ill at ease.

"Do you think I am in the clouds?" said Hilliard.

"Oh, no! Why shouldn't you get on--as other men do?"