“Oh dear, Dorothy didn’t I get you the book to read?” asked Aunt Betty.
“Yes, Aunt Betty,” answered Dorothy, “but Molly took it home with her. She wanted something to read on the cars.”
“Well, well, never mind, you will enjoy the play all the more for not having read the story. Here are the seats, Mrs. Calvert. And, Dorothy, I would like you to notice the naturalness of the characters in the play, and profit by it. Naturalness and ease mean a great deal for you,—self possession—poise, my dear.”
“What about the concert? Where is that? When? Here I am asking questions faster than you can answer them,” remarked Dorothy.
“In time, in time, my dear,” responded Mr. Ludlow. “Thursday I will call for you here and take you with me to Carnegie Hall, where, my dear, you will render two pieces. The rest of the concert has been arranged for, and the small part left for you will not scare you, but only help to get you used to playing before large audiences. Now, Dorothy child, what would you like to play? This time you can choose your own pieces.”
“I should like to play what Aunt Betty and Jim like best,” answered Dorothy; “they hear me play oftener than anyone else.”
“My choice is ‘Das Gude vom Lied,’ by Schuman,” replied Aunt Betty.
“And mine is ‘Rondo a capriccio,’ by Beethoven,” said Jim.
“All right, all right, they will suit exactly,” added Mr. Ludlow.
“Mr. Ludlow,” remarked Aunt Betty, “I would like to take up a few minutes of your time when you are finished with Dorothy.”