"He can whistle 'Auld Lang Syne,' too, I think he does it quite as well as 'Annie Laurie.'"
The applause had started again, and the lights, which had been turned on, went out. The audience quieted at once.
Soft and sweet came the tones of a violin.
"Doodles," breathed Miss Sterling.
Nelson Randolph bent his head to hear, and nodded in answer.
Softly the player slipped into "Old Folks at Home," and the tune went on slowly, lingeringly, as if waiting for something that did not come. Again it was played, this time with the voice of Doodles accompanying.
Meanwhile Polly was tiptoeing noiselessly from group to group and from guest to guest, with the soft-breathed word, "No applause, please!"
Over and over sounded the sweet, haunting melody, until not a few of those unfamiliar with the methods of the patient teacher and his singular little pupil, wondered, with Miss Crilly, "what in the world was up."
Then, just as almost everybody's nerves were growing tense, Caruso took up the air and carried it on bewitchingly to its close.
"How can he do it!"—"Wasn't that perfectly beautiful!"—"Did you teach it to him, Doodles?"—"My! but he's a jimdandy, and no mistake!" These and a score of others were tossed about as the lights went up.