“I know, that is just it. I don’t mean to ask him for money. I have been writing letters to people in New York and trying to get work and now I have succeeded in landing something that will give me enough to live on, so you won’t have to worry.”
“But, Lance, there is school. You are only fifteen and you can’t stop school, it is even against the law. You must have pretended you were older.”
“I can go to school at night when I have finished working; I explained this to father,” Lance argued patiently.
“What about the music? When will you have money or time for lessons?” Tory interrupted, not intending to intrude upon the discussion, but in her interest forgetting her resolution.
A little less self-confident Lance appeared.
“Honestly, I don’t know, Tory,” he replied. “I think I feel that if once I get where music is, the opportunity will come to me as rain and sunshine come to trees and the things that need them. Gee whiz, I am talking like a poet or a girl! Father would not think this line of conversation convincing. You’ll think up a better line of argument, won’t you Dorothy? Then when your time comes and you want something a whole lot I’ll do my best for you.”
“But, Lance, I—” Dorothy hesitated—“I don’t want you to go away from home; I don’t think it best for you. You ought to wait several years anyhow. You are not strong and you’d be ill. You don’t believe it, but father cares more for you than for the rest of us because you are more like mother. Please put things off a while longer in your own mind. Truly, father will not consent for the present.”
Lance got up.
“All right, Dorothy, don’t say anything to father on the subject. If you try to do your best for me what you really think will be plain enough. I am sorry to have interrupted you; I’m off.”
Nor would Lance remain in spite of the pleading of his sister and friends.