“I thought we’d find him reading Beethoven’s life, or, at least, studying the score,” whispered Marjorie to Edith. “Just imagine that genius sitting down on the floor and playing cars!”
“I’ve brought these young ladies to see you,” said Mrs. Drayton, putting the little fellow down. “Will you kiss them, dear?”
Marjorie and Edith and Eunice, all awe-struck at the idea of kissing a genius, bent down to the dear little boy, who dutifully kissed each one of them, first upon one cheek and then upon the other, in foreign fashion, as if it were a performance he was very used to.
“What have you brought me?” he demanded, in German, of Mrs. Drayton, standing before her in boy fashion, with his small feet somewhat apart, and his hands deep in his pocket.
“We all spoil him by always bringing him something, I suppose,” said Mrs. Drayton to the girls, laughing at his tone, as she laid the box she had brought in his hands. He eagerly tore off the paper and the cover. The box contained a curious mechanical toy, which the Boy seized with delight. He immediately sat down on the floor to examine it.
Just at this moment, the strains of the violins sounded again, and the call-boy came to say that he must go in a moment.
The Boy uttered an impatient exclamation that was equal to “Oh, bother!” in English, but he paid no other attention to his summons. His father was talking to Mrs. Drayton, and did not hear the call-boy enter or leave.
In a moment, the call-boy came again.
“Can’t they wait a minute?” the Boy demanded impatiently, in English, which he spoke very well. “I must get this together. It’s almost done.”
The applause of the audience came to their ears. The call-boy repeated the summons in great impatience, knowing that he would be scolded for presumably not having given long enough notice.