"I can't help it," Kitty declared. "She won't say a word about it. And every time we get on to the subject, she either begins to talk about something else, or leaves the room."
"I've noticed it, too," said Sarah, quietly.
The gloom on every countenance bore silent witness to the hold Blue Bonnet had on the affections of the We are Sevens.
"Woodford will be a stupid old hole without her," Kitty declared.
"Passing over your implied compliment to us," said Debby, "I agree with you."
Grandmother handed Blue Bonnet Aunt Lucinda's letter without comment; but watched the girl's face closely as she read. A characteristic letter it was, showing the fine mind and cultivation of the writer, yet like her, too, precise and rather formal in its wording. She was in Munich, enjoying the summer music festival. Nothing very important so far, Blue Bonnet concluded, and began to breathe more easily. But over the closing pages she sobered again.
"There is a rather remarkable pianist staying at this same pension," she wrote; "and she plays for us very often. Something in the charm and delicacy of her touch makes me think of Blue Bonnet's, when she plays her little 'Ave Maria.' I have talked with her about Blue Bonnet and she thinks with me that the child must have real talent for the piano. Fräulein Schirmer is to teach music in a school for girls in Boston, this coming winter, and I think it would be an excellent plan to place Blue Bonnet right in the school. She is old enough now to appreciate the atmosphere of culture and refinement in such a place,—I am told that the first families of Boston send their daughters there—and she could have the advantage of attending the Symphony concerts.
"Woodford has nothing much to offer in the way of musical advantages, and I think Blue Bonnet should develop her talent in this line. She could come to us for the week-end always, and in that way we should not have to part with her altogether. But we can settle the matter when we are all in Woodford once more."
Blue Bonnet sighed as she finished and let the letter drop into her lap. "When they were all in Woodford once more." So Aunt Lucinda, too, took it for granted! She stirred a trifle resentfully.
"One would think I had signed a life-contract!" she thought.