"You will remain with your sister and myself, Christina."
"Please, mother, let me go! Robert, please!" and she looked so entreatingly at her brother, that he sat down by his mother, and taking her hand said: "You must humor me in this matter, dear mother. I want some of you with me, and I am sure Christina can learn a great deal from Dora. It will cost her nothing, and she ought to take advantage of Dora's skill."
The last argument prevailed. If Christina could get any advantage for nothing, and especially from Theodora, Mrs. Campbell approved the project.
"You may go with your brother, Christina, for an hour, and make the most of your opportunities. One thing is sure, the woman ought to do something for the family, for goodness knows, we have been put to extraordinary expense and trouble for her pleasure."
A few minutes after the departure of Robert and his sister, Mrs. Campbell said: "Open the parlor door, Isabel, and let us hear the 'treat' if we can."
But the songs Theodora sang were quite unknown to the two listeners and Mrs. Campbell indulged herself in much scornful criticism. "Who ever heard the like? Do you call that music? It is just skirling. I would rather hear Christina sing 'The Bush Aboon Traquair,' or 'The Lass o' Patie's Mill,' or a good rattling Jacobite song like 'Highland Laddie,' or 'Over the Water to Charlie.' There is music in the like o' them, but there isn't a note o' it in Dora's caterwauling."
"Listen, mother! She is singing merrily enough now. I wonder what it is? Robert and Christina are both laughing."
"Something wicked and theatrical, no doubt. Shut the door, Isabel, and give me my Practice of Piety. Then you may leave me, and go to your room, unless you wish to join your sister."
"Mother, do not be unjust."
"In an hour remind Christina. You are a good daughter, Isabel. You are my greatest comfort."