A PATHETIC STORY
"I've got three tickets. We students always have two, you know, and a girl who didn't want to invite anybody gave me her extra one. Amy doesn't care for concerts, and Ruth is going somewhere with Graham. So I thought--"
Priscilla paused impressively. She was about to do an magnanimous thing, and she meant to get full credit.
"I thought perhaps you'd like to have me invite Elaine. Didn't you say she was fond of music?"
Peggy beamed. "She adores it. And it's lovely of you to ask her. Those conservatory concerts are always splendid."
"They get the best talent that's to be had," said Priscilla. "They go on the principle that hearing good music is part of our education." Priscilla was studying the violin in addition to her work in the high-school, and though possessed of no extraordinary talent, was at least learning a better appreciation of the work of the great artists to whom she listened at frequent intervals.
The two girls were on their way home from school. As they reached the Marshall's cottage, Peggy turned in as a matter of course, and Priscilla followed, feeling highly virtuous. She was not a girl who did things by halves, and her manner as she tendered her invitation was unusually sweet and winning.
"Peggy and I are going to the Conservatory concert Friday afternoon, and we want to take you with us. Powell will play, and it'll be a treat."
"Why, it's ever so kind of you. Of course I'd love to go." A glimmer of suspicion flashed out beneath Elaine's gratitude. She had learned to accept Peggy's kindnesses at their face value, without looking for an ulterior motive. But with Priscilla it was different. Out of Peggy's especial friends Priscilla was the one, Elaine felt sure, who liked her least, and her pleasure in the invitation was lessened by her wonder as to what had called it forth.
Peggy was chattering on gaily. "We'll go early, so as to watch the people come in. I think that's half the fun. We sit so high up that I am afraid to lean forward for fear of falling down, I don't know how many stories, but I hold on tight, and crane my neck so as not to miss anybody."