"Bobby!" Sally expostulated. "Mr. Arlt's suite is to be played, Saturday, and Mr. Thayer is to be the soloist for the concert. You oughtn't to have forgotten that, especially when you asked me to go with you."
"Oh, yes; I do remember now," Bobby replied serenely. "I knew I had some duty on hand for Saturday, just when I wanted to run up to Englewood for a little golf. What makes you do music in pleasant weather, Arlt? It's mean to keep a fellow in-doors at this season."
"It is our last appearance," Arlt answered.
Bobby raised his brows in feigned terror.
"Nothing mortal, I hope."
"No. We are going abroad, early in June."
"Just the other fellow's luck! I wish I were a genius, to go frisking about Europe instead of inking my fingers at home."
Arlt shook his head.
"No frisking for us. We are going to study."
With characteristic promptitude, Bobby dragged out his hobby, mounted it and was off at a gallop.