“I don't know,” said Molly. “It's like all other education, nothing but grind, grind; but I suppose something will come of it in the long run.”
“What are you talking about, girls?” said Mrs. Hartrick, who just then appeared upon the scene. “Nora, I am pleased; to get very good reports of your music.”
“Oh!” said Nora, “I am glad you have come, Aunt Grace; and I shall be able to speak to you. Must I learn what takes all the music out of me?”
“Silly child. There is only one road to a sound musical education, and that is the road of toil. At present you play by ear, and sing by ear. You have talent; but it must be cultivated. Just believe that your elders know what they are about.”
Nora did not say anything. Mrs. Hartrick, after looking at her gravely for a moment, continued her gentle walk round the shrubbery. Molly uttered a sigh.
“There's no good, Nora,” she said. “You'll have to go through with it. I suppose it is the only way; but it's hard to believe it.”
“Well, at any rate, I enjoy other things in my school life,” said Nora. “Miss Goring is so nice, and I quite love Miss Flowers; and, after all, I am in your form, Molly, and we do like doing our lessons together.”
“To be sure we do; life is quite a different thing for me since you have come here,” was Molly's retort.
“And you have been very good indeed about your naughty words, you know,” said Nora, nestling up to her cousin.
“Have I? Well, it's owing to you. You see, now, I have someone to help me—someone to understand me.”