All this was said in a bright, laughing way, that hadn't an atom of unfriendliness in the tone of it; and Dolly had not the faintest idea that her proposition was being decidedly snubbed, as she listened. The other girls were wiser. The moment that Hope refused to play in the way she did, they knew that the proposition was distasteful to her; and when Kate Van der Berg came to the support of this refusal with that quick, bright decision, they knew that she knew more than they did why the proposition was distasteful.
Anna Fleming, who was Kate's room-mate, said to her a little later,—
"Kate, didn't you think it was rather disobliging of Hope Benham not to play that duet with Dorothea Dering?"
"Disobliging! Well, that is a way to put it. I think it was the most forward, presuming—what my brother Schuyler would call 'the cheekiest thing' for that girl to take it for granted that such a violinist as Hope Benham would want to practise her little rubbishy waltzes with her."
"But she didn't know probably what a splendid player Hope was, when she first asked her."
"She knew, didn't she, after she had heard the sonata?"
"Yes, I suppose she had some idea, but she might not have been a very good judge. She said, you know, at once that she couldn't play like Hope, anyway."
"Yes, I heard her; so kind of her to say that," cried Kate, sarcastically.
Anna laughed. Then, "What's the matter with 'that girl,' as you call her?" she asked.
"Matter! well, I should think you could see as well as I that she is a forward sort of thing; that's all I've got against her," Kate concluded hastily, remembering her promise to Hope.