“But don’t you want to go yourself, mamma?” asked Eunice, quickly.
“No; for you know papa and I heard him, two weeks ago, when we were in New York. He certainly is a wonder, Edith. I don’t care much about prodigies, as a rule, but his playing is very wonderful. New York was wild over him.”
“I’ve wanted to hear him so much,” said Edith, enthusiastically. “It’s perfectly lovely!”
“Then I’ll take you two down-town with me,” said Mrs. Ward to Cricket and Hilda. “Will it be too cold for ice-cream?”
The three matinée girls got off in good time. As they entered the lobby, they encountered Mrs. Drayton.
“I’m so glad to see you, girls,” she said, in her cordial way. “I came early, and have been waiting here in hope of seeing some of you. I am going to the dressing-room, to see the little pianist, during the intermission, and I thought if I could find any of you, you would like to go too.”
The girls fairly gasped. To go behind the scenes into that wonderful, mystical dressing-room, and actually see and touch a real, live individual that came out on the stage and played! Could it be true?
“Oh, Mrs. Drayton!” they all cried, breathlessly.
“I have seen him several times,” Mrs. Drayton went on. “The little fellow, with his father and some others, lunched with us yesterday. He is a perfect little dear. Just as childlike and sweet as if he never had been before the public at all.”
Mrs. Drayton’s husband, though a prominent lawyer, was a fine amateur violinist, and he kept closely in touch with all musical matters. His house was always a centre for amateur musicians, and he often entertained professionals.