"Well, that shows what a hurt it must have been."
"What she said was out of ignorance. She didn't know any better," Hope went on, determined to do the honorable thing by her childish enemy.
"I don't believe she knows much better now. Oh, you needn't try to smooth it all over to me, you little conscientious thing; it's of no use."
"But, Kate, promise me one thing,—that you won't—you won't talk to the other girls about it."
"Yes, I'll promise you that I'll be as mum as an oyster."
"And you won't—you won't be—"
"Disagreeable to her?" interrupted Kate, laughing. "Well, I'll try not to be; I'll take pattern by you, and be so politely fascinating that she'll ask me to play duets with her."
Hope could not help laughing at this, but all the time she felt disturbed and troubled. Kate Van der Berg had playfully jibed at her for her conscientiousness. Kate thought she was over-conscientious, and she might have been sometimes, for she was a sensitive creature, with high notions and ideas of truth and justice and honor, and her father had developed these ideas by his advice and counsel. One of the things that he had impressed upon her was never to take advantage of any one, especially any one that you had had a quarrel with. "Fair play, my dear, always; remember that, and so you must remember to be open and above board after you've had any differences with people, and never let yourself say or hint damaging things about them, to prejudice others," was one of his favorite pieces of counsel, put in one form and another, at various times. Hope thought of these words even when she joined in Kate Van der Berg's laughter. She thought of them after Kate had left her, and all through the rest of the day they would start up to torment her. At last she said to herself: "This is over-conscientious, for I didn't mean to prejudice any one against Dolly Dering. I tried not to show how I felt, and if I didn't succeed, it isn't my fault; but I'm a great goose to fuss so. Kate will keep her promise, I know, and Miss Dorothea Dering won't be unpopular because of anything I have said."
So the matter rested, and the days went on, the school arrangements settling into order, and the school companionships falling into the usual adjustment by personal choice. When everything seemed to be running smoothly, Dolly came forward again with her proposition. It was one afternoon when she heard the sound of a violin floating down from the music-room. It was the first time she had heard it, and obeying her headlong impulse, she ran swiftly up the stairs and knocked at the door. A voice called out, "Come in;" and obeying it, she found herself not only in the presence of Hope, but of Kate Van der Berg, Myra Donaldson,—Hope's lately returned room-mate,—and Anna Fleming. Myra was seated at the piano, a sheet of music before her, waiting for Hope to signal to her. All the girls looked up and bowed as Dolly entered, but no one spoke. They were intent upon watching Hope, who, bow in hand, was carefully testing the strings that she had just tightened.
Dolly came round and stood beside Kate Van der Berg at the back of the piano, which was a parlor grand placed half-way down the room. She started to whisper, "What is it they—" but was checked by Kate's "Hush! hush!" and just then the bow was brought to bear softly upon the strings, as Hope began playing the sonata in F major by Beethoven. Once or twice as the music progressed, Kate glanced at Dolly with a new interest. What was this cool intruder—for such Kate dubbed her—thinking as she listened to these exquisitely rendered strains? Was she properly astonished and ashamed of herself for proposing to join such a performer in a violin duet? Dolly's face betrayed nothing, however. She simply stood perfectly still, leaning a little forward against the piano, her big black eyes fixed in a steady gaze, now upon Hope's violin bow, and now upon Hope herself. She stood thus until near the close, when the difficult and delightful passages approach the climax. Then her eyes wandered, her features relaxed, and when the end came, she was ready with a little outburst of vigorous applause, which she followed up with,—