“I mean that when we go back to the city I am going to have your voice tried. That is, I am going to have you sing before a certain good teacher of singing and if he thinks it worth while to give you lessons, you shall study with him. He is a wonderful master, and will take only pupils who have really good voices.”
“Oh!” cried Letty, the sound being more a sigh than an exclamation. She was really breathless with joy at the thought of what happiness might be in store for her.
“But suppose he shouldn’t be willing to give me lessons!” she cried in sudden dismay, her voice coming back with a little gasp.
“That remains to be seen,” replied Mrs. Hartwell-Jones with a serene little smile that did not look as if she were very much worried.
Then they went back to the subject that always proved so deeply interesting to them both; the subject of Letty’s studies in the fall, and so intent did they become that they forgot all about the time until Jane rushed suddenly into the room, crying:
“DON’T YOU WORRY, LITTLE GIRL”
“Where is Kit? It’s much after half-past five, Letty. Oh, where is he!”
Letty sprang to her feet and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones looked anxiously out of the window at the lengthening shadows.
“I’ll look and see if he’s coming down the road,” said Letty, and ran quickly out of the room, followed by Jane.