“Well, there are some calves, anyway,” retorted Maria, laughing heartily.
Poor Jedidiah! It is to be feared that he will have a hard time when he becomes the husband of the fair Maria. She will undoubtedly be the head of the new matrimonial firm.
There was nothing further to mar the harmony of the evening. It had begun with indications of a storm, but the clouds had vanished, and when Mr. Beck left the hall, there was nothing left to disturb the enjoyment of those present.
The favorable opinions expressed when Philip commenced playing were repeated again and again, as the evening slipped away.
“I tell you, he’s a regular genius!” one enthusiastic admirer said to his companion. “Paul Beck can’t hold a candle to him.”
“That’s so. He’s smart, and no mistake.”
Poor Mr. Beck! It was fortunate he was unable to hear these comparisons made. He could not brook a rival near the throne, and had gone home in low spirits, feeling that he could never again hold his head as high as he had done.
When the dancing was over, there was a brief conference of the committee of management, the subject of which was soon made known.
Andrew Blake approached Philip and said:
“Mr. Gray, some of us would like to hear you play something else, if you are not tired—not a dancing-tune.”