“How you do rattle on,” said Hilary, who had had one startled moment when she thought Lilian was in earnest.
“Yes,” said Lilian in reply to Eloise, “if Madame should show so much preference and put Eloise on and leave me off, I’d know that she thought Eloise could sing and I couldn’t. However, I do think that Eloise is exaggerating a little when she speaks of ‘blows.’”
“Perhaps so,” admitted Eloise, “but I will say that when it comes to piano I shall not be jealous of anybody. If my beloved teacher will only leave me off the program I shall be happy, but I can see that this ‘beautiful little study’ that I am working on and have been all year is aimed at the Spring Recital!”
“They have to have somebody,” remarked Hilary.
“Now, Hilary! The most unkindest cut of all!”
“I have to get even on general principles.”
“You have given me a most unhappy thought, Eloise,” said Lilian, “what if my violin teacher should make me play ‘The Violet’!”
“What is that?” asked Eloise.
“O, it is a simple little thing for beginners. I am working on ‘Simple Aveu’ now and the professor is in despair. Honestly, girls, if I did not like violin so much I’d give it up. He has such agonies over my bowing and fingering and if I do not get the tone,—the sparks fly. I don’t blame him for that, though. I nearly perish myself when any one is off pitch in singing or violin. I know better than to make some of the mistakes I do, but when he has to show me I get confused, and he hasn’t a bit of patience. I suppose that is the sign of a great artist.”
“Indeed it isn’t,” said Hilary, “not to have patience, but I suppose it is hard to teach.”