“But what shall we do, Miss Greggory?” appealed Billy. “It is a hard part, you know; but if Mr. Tobey can't take it, I don't know who can. We don't want to hire a singer for it, if we can help it. The profits are to go to the Home for Crippled Children, you know,” she explained, turning to Arkwright, “and we decided to hire only the accompanist.”
An odd expression flitted across Miss Greggory's face.
“Mr. Arkwright used to sing—tenor,” she observed quietly.
“As if he didn't now—a perfectly glorious tenor,” retorted Billy. “But as if he would take this!”
For only a brief moment did Arkwright hesitate; then blandly he suggested:
“Suppose you try him, and see.”
Billy sat suddenly erect.
“Would you, really? Could you—take the time, and all?” she cried.
“Yes, I think I would—under the circumstances,” he smiled. “I think I could, too, though I might not be able to attend all the rehearsals. Still, if I find I have to ask permission, I'll endeavor to convince the powers-that-be that singing in this operetta will be just the stepping-stone I need to success in Grand Opera.”
“Oh, if you only would take it,” breathed Billy, “we'd be so glad!”