Satisfied with his promise to say “yes,” the little girl began to play her chosen piece.
It had taken so long to make a selection from her old pieces, Cousin Herman had bought several new ones—marvels of creation they were to Chee. “Fixed up with the baby songs all in,” as she styled the turns and trills. She had tried to play true to the notes, but it was a hard task. To-day as she was conscientiously measuring them out, he left the room a moment to speak with the minister. Returning, he was surprised at the progress she had made in his absence. Thinking his presence had hindered her, he stole softly to the door.
With a listening expression on her face, Chee was slowly pacing the floor. The sheet of music lay on the table, face down. Undoubtedly, as Mr. Farrar recalled the selection, it was the one she was playing—but how changed! It seemed to have been but the framework for the little artist to build upon.
She finished, and brushing the damp hair from her warm forehead, looked up. Cousin Herman stood in the doorway. Chee glanced at the neglected sheet of music with a guilty look. “I forgot, Cousin Herman, I really did,” she explained, hurriedly.
“I guess you needn’t bother with the notes. I see you have the melody in your head.” He tried to speak unconcernedly.
Chee was relieved. “I’m ever so glad. You don’t know how much easier it will be.”
“After you have a teacher I suppose it will be necessary to tie you down to accurate reading, but until then we won’t spoil your own way.”
The minister came in just then, followed by his wife and Gertrude. “Is the lesson over?” he asked.
“Cousin Herman has got to say ‘yes’ now.”
“Say ‘yes?’ What to?”