"If you go on--if you work," Mrs. George continued, "your violin will be your fortune. You will be a great woman some day."
Sarah's great eyes blazed at the thought of it; her heart began to beat hard and fast.
"Do you really think so, Aunt George?" she asked.
"I really do. I am sure of it. But, child, your violin seems to me a very good one. Where did you get it?"
"Father gave it to me; it was his grandfather's," said Sarah, holding it out for inspection. "It is an Amati."
"It is worth five hundred pounds," said May, who was eminently practical, and measured most things by a pounds, shillings, and pence standard.
"Of course--if it is an Amati," murmured Mrs. George, becoming languid again. "But go on, my child. I should like a little more."
So Sarah played and played until the room grew darker and darker, and gradually the shadows deepened, until it was only by the lamps from the square that she could distinguish the outlines of the figure in the yellow sweeping robes.
It was like a shock when the door was gently opened and the footman came in, bearing a huge lamp with a crimson shade. Then the coffee followed, and before very long one of the servants came back, and said that the cab for the young ladies had come.
"You have given me great pleasure," said Mrs. George to Sarah; "and when Mrs. Stubbs comes back I must make an afternoon party, and Sarah shall play at it. I have not been so pleased for a long time." And then she kissed them both, and with "good-night" they left her.