“Do you remember about two weeks ago when Mr. Fenton talked to us about the Greek spirit? He said that to him it represented, beauty, adventure and freedom.”
Dorothy sighed.
“Dear me, Lance, I was afraid at the time you might take Mr. Fenton’s speech personally! What are you planning to do in quest of beauty, freedom and adventure?”
Dorothy’s expression was worried but amused, and Lance flushed. Upon only one subject was he particularly sensitive, his devotion to music and his own lack of any knowledge of it.
In a measure his sister could surmise something of what he had in mind.
“My effort was not to be a very serious one, Dot,” he said slowly; “at least I did not feel it go until after my talk with father. He seems to have gone up in the air. I don’t want to spend next winter in Westhaven. I simply can not endure any longer never having music lessons from any one who knows how to teach and not even hearing any music worth listening to.”
Lance set his teeth.
“I don’t ask anyone to understand, you can’t if you try.”
Dorothy’s blue eyes grew more troubled.
“I know, Lance, but I do try,” she returned. “And I would give anything, make any sacrifice I knew how to make if father were willing or had the money to send you to New York to study. But he is not willing and he has not the money.”