"Thank you," he answered, "but I must stay here and finish learning to play the piano for the act I am to do. Of course I'll come over and see Lucile and Mart, though. I call it 'seeing' them, but of course I can't use my eyes," he added. "However, I've grown used to that, and I don't seem to mind being in the dark."
"You can't ever see anybody make faces at you—if they ever do—can you?" asked Sue, as she patted his hand.
"No indeed!" laughed Mr. Clayton. "I never thought of that. But I suppose some bad people like to make faces at me, and, as you say, if ever they do I sha'n't see them."
"I don't guess anybody would make faces at you when you play on the piano," said Bunny Brown.
"I don't guess so, either," added Sue.
There was more talk, and then it was time for Mr. Brown and the children to go back home. Mr. Clayton promised to write a telegram to Lucile's other uncle and aunt. He could write even though he was blind, and Mr. Harrison, at the Home for the Blind, promised to send the message.
"Then you'll hear from Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie soon," said the blind man.
"I hope we hear before the play!" exclaimed Lucile. "It will make me so much happier when I sing."
"Perhaps you'll come over to the hall the night or the performance," suggested Mr. Brown to Mr. Clayton. "You can hear what goes on."
"I'll try to come," agreed the blind man.