SO BUILD WE UP THE BEING THAT WE ARE
Aunt Cordelia stood behind Emmy Lou who was seated at the piano with "Selections From the Operas, for Beginners," open on the rack. She paused in her counting. "Now try it again by yourself. You have to keep time if you want harmony."
Harmony? The mind of the performer dwelt on the word as she started over again. What is harmony?
Aunt Cordelia relaxing her attention for the moment turned to speak to Uncle Charlie who was reading his paper by the droplight. "It's no easy thing to bring up a child, Charlie." As it happened, she was not referring to the practicing. "Louise thinks Emmy Lou ought to be confirmed. She says now that she is eleven years old she surely ought to know where she stands."
It is no easy thing to be the child brought up either, as Emmy Lou on the piano-stool could have rejoined. Life and Aunt Cordelia might perch her on the stool but, as events were proving, that did not make her a musician. Would going up the aisle of St. Simeon's to kneel at the rail, she had watched the confirmation class for some years now, make her——?
What was it supposed to make her? An Episcopalian? What is an Episcopalian? Did she want to be one? Or did she want to be what Papa is?
"Repeat, repeat," said Aunt Cordelia behind her. "Don't you see the dots at the end of the passage?"
Emmy Lou repeated, came to the end of her selection, and, to the relief of herself, at least, got down. She was thinking about Papa.
She had gathered from somewhere that when Mamma after marriage left her church and went with Papa to his church, there was feeling.
Emmy Lou adored Papa. Aunt Cordelia had a brother and two sisters to go with her to St. Simeon's. Surely there should be someone to go with Papa? But where? What was he?