They watched the figure of the little music teacher until it disappeared through the gate and out of sight behind the hedge. Then they turned again to their comfortable rockers, to discuss the visit and Dorothy’s future.
“Oh, Aunt Betty,” confessed the girl, “I was terribly nervous until I felt my violin under my chin. It seemed to give me confidence, and I played as I have never played before. Somehow, I felt I could not make a mistake. I’m so glad the Herr professor was pleased. Isn’t he a perfect dear? So genteel, so polished, in spite of his dialect—just the kind of a man old Herr Von Barwig was in ‘The Music Master.’”
Dinah came out on the gallery to say that Dorothy was wanted at the ’phone.
“Oh, I wonder who it can be?” said the girl. “I didn’t think any of my friends knew I was home.”
She hastened inside, and with the receiver at her ear, in keen anticipation murmured a soft:
“Hello!”
“Hello, Dorothy, dear! How are you?”
It was a girl’s voice and the tones were familiar.
“Who is this? I—I don’t quite catch the—! Oh, surely; it’s Aurora Blank!”
“You’ve guessed it the first time. I only learned a few moments ago that you were home. I’m just dying to see you, to learn how you liked your trip and the adventures you had at school. You’ll tell me about them in good time, won’t you, Dorothy?”