“But you did decide to try out,” he said, underlining her small triumph over her shyness.
She nodded slowly. “I wanted to go so badly,” she said softly.
“I’m glad you did,” Bert whispered. “I love it when you play. It’s like heaven, somehow.” He blushed. “That’s a dopey way to say it, I guess,” he added. “We’ll have a super time down there, I’ll bet.”
Hand in hand, they walked around the farm. Bert saw Tommy’s chicken house and the berry patches and the small woods which stood near the road. Finally, almost reluctantly, they turned towards the big house.
Dinner was almost ready when they returned. Bert stopped at the car and took out his violin. “We can have a concert after dinner, if they like,” he said.
Doris disappeared into the kitchen to help with the dinner, and Bert took his violin into the parlor. As he laid it on the piano, Mr. Craig came into the room.
“Well, hello there, Bert,” he said. “So we’re having a concert after dinner.”
“If you like, sir,” Bert answered.
“Fine, fine,” Mr. Craig said, rubbing his hands.
“Mr. Craig, there is something I would like to tell you,” Bert said hesitantly.