"No; of course not. But I never thought of that before. He's a man, though, and a man ought to be expected to have better control of himself than a little girl."
Evelyn and Lulu took their music-lessons on the same day of the week,
Evelyn first, Lulu immediately after.
They met the next day at the door of the music-room, the one coming out, the other just about to enter.
Evelyn was looking pale and agitated, Lulu flushed and angry, having been scolded—unjustly, she thought—by Miss Diana, who accused her of slighting a drawing with which she had really taken great pains.
"Oh, Lu, do be careful; the slightest mistake angers him to-day," whispered Evelyn in passing.
"It always does," said Lulu, gloomily.
"But you will be on your guard?" Lulu nodded, and stepped into the room with a "Good-morning, signor."
"Good-morning, mees; you are von leetle moment too late."
Deigning no reply to that, Lulu took possession of the piano-stool, spread out her music and began playing.
"Dat ish too fast, mees; you should not make it like to a galop or a valtz," stormed the little man.