“Good scheme. Will you make me one?”
“I?” She hesitated. She had already promised one to Dr. Paul, but she must not let a chance to serve her Lohengrin pass her by. “Oh, yes,” she answered, “I’ll make you one, if you like.”
“I hope it isn’t a difficult task.”
“Not very. We are going to do them on the first rainy day, but I don’t have to wait for that. I really think I should go back now; I promised mother I would not stay very long.”
“Then I’ll go, too. We can use one canoe and tow the other one. I’ll hand you back safe and sound to your mother, and tell her you have been an inspiration.”
Nan colored under this. “But I haven’t,” she protested.
“Oh, yes, you have. Any one who loves music as you do is a boon to one who enjoys it, too. Do you love anything else as much?”
“No, not quite, although I do love pictures, and some poetry, some authors, too.”
“Of course. You would, you know. I could see you loved pictures that first day in the studio, for you had a nice discriminating sense and criticized like a person who really knows what is what.”
“Oh, but did I criticize?” Nan was quite overwhelmed at the idea of her daring.