“I know only one thing very well,” she announced, and began the melody she had played at the birthday party. “Dear old Jeremy Todd taught me that,” she said as she ended.
“Jeremy Todd? You don’t mean to say you know old Jeremy?” exclaimed Mr. Barstow. “Where did you run across him? I’ve not seen him or heard of him for years. Used to know him well. What’s become of him, and why doesn’t he show up? Lots of talent. We all believed he would make his mark.”
Ellen gave such information as she could, Mr. Barstow listening attentively, and at the close shaking his head and saying, “Poor old chap! Poor old Jeremy! I’d like mighty well to see him again.”
But here entered Kogi with a great tray, and Mr. Barstow skipped off to see that the refreshments were served properly. Delicious they were and of great variety, so abundant, too, that it is a wonder that any one was able to join in the carols with which the evening ended.
Ellen went off hugging her violin, for the gift of which she had hugged and kissed the giver. “Dear Don Pedro,” she whispered, “I can never thank you enough for this. It has been such a wonderful evening altogether. I shall remember it to my dying day.”
Reed Marshall followed her to the street. “If it wasn’t for this rig I sure would see you home, Cronette, but I’m coming to see you. Mrs. Austin says I may, but she won’t make any promises about the sittings, for she says she is chock-full of engagements for you, and I shall just have to take my chances.”
“I’d really like to see what you look like in your true character,” said Ellen laughing. “I feel sort of queer about you, as if you were not a real somebody.”
“I’ll convince you that I am, at the very first opportunity.”
But Mr. and Mrs. Austin were waiting, so Ellen ran on to join them, and they walked briskly home with the music of the Christmas carols still ringing in their ears.