Grandmother leant over my shoulder, and examined the piano cover.
"What made that, Rhoda?" she demanded, pointing to a broad streak which ran through the plush.
"That is where Madame Tomaso beats time," I answered, meekly.
They looked at one another.
"She is such an excellent teacher," my mother said, apologetically, "that I suppose I ought not to complain. It's very good of her to take so much trouble. Just as soon as they are large enough, she shall teach the twins, too."
"Oh, no, mother!" I cried, quickly.
"Why not, Rhoda?"
I evaded the question.
"Couldn't I teach them, mother?" I asked, anxiously.