At home Genevieve went immediately to her practising—somewhat to Mrs. Kennedy's surprise. She practised, too, quite fifteen minutes over her hour—still more to Mrs. Kennedy's surprise. There was, also, a certain unsympathetic hardness in the chords and runs that puzzled the lady not a little; but in the face of their obvious accuracy, and of Genevieve's apparent faithfulness, Mrs. Kennedy did not like to find fault.
Just how long Genevieve would have practised is doubtful, perhaps, had there not sounded an insistently repeated whistle of the Hexagon Club song from the garden. The girl went to the open window then.
"Did you whistle, Harold?" she asked, not too graciously.
"Did I whistle?" retorted the boy, testily. "Oh, no, I never whistled once—but I did four times! See here, I thought your practice-hour was an hour."
"It is."
"Well, you've been working fifteen minutes over-time already."
"Have I?"
"Yes, you have; and your constitution positively needs a walk. Come, it's your plain duty to your health. Will you go?"
Genevieve dimpled into a laugh.
"All right," she cried more naturally. "Then I'll come. I'll be out in a jiffy."