"What is the discussion?" she inquired, as she seated herself.
"No discussion at all, Miss Gannion. Bobby is doing a monologue on music, and the rest of us can't get a word in edgewise."
"Have you joined the ranks of the musicians, Bobby?"
"Yes, or the angels," Sally responded for him. "Nothing else could have such a fatal facility for harping on one string."
"I was so sorry to lose your recital, Mr. Thayer," Miss Gannion said, after a while, as she turned her steady brown eyes on the young man. "I was in Boston, that week, and I am told that I missed one of the treats of the season. When am I to have another chance of hearing you?"
Thayer hesitated for a moment, while his gray eyes met the brown ones that seemed to be taking his mental measure. Apparently both were satisfied with what they saw, for they exchanged a smile of sudden understanding. Then Thayer's face grew grave.
"Whenever you wish," he replied quietly.
"Does that mean you will sing to me, myself? I should never have dared hope for that."
"Why not? That is, if you will let me bring Arlt with me. I dislike to force him upon people; but he is the only accompanist I really enjoy."
Beatrix looked up with a laugh.