"Oh, when she was quite a little girl."
"What kind of music—whose compositions, I mean, does she play?"
Dolly rattled off what she knew of Hope's repertoire.
"Well, she must have been at it from a small youngster," ejaculated Jimmy, emphatically, at the list Dolly gave. "And she must have a great—a great taste for music. The idea of your thinking I would play with any one who was up to what she is!"
"But you play very well,—you play better than I do."
"What's that to do with it? You don't mean to say that you think—that you propose—" But Jimmy stopped short, remembering the recent outbreak of sniffles and tears. But he had gone far enough for Dolly to understand, and she took up his words, not tearfully, but indignantly, as she replied,—
"I do mean to say that I propose to play a duet with Hope at school this very winter."
"Is it a school arrangement,—Miss Marr's plan? I didn't know that you studied the violin at Miss Marr's."
"Well, we do, if we wish to. There is a teacher, a very fine teacher, who comes in from the outside for that, as there is for the harp, or any other special accomplishment."
"Oh! and Miss Benham wants you to practise with her,—I suppose you can help each other,—I see," remarked Jimmy, demurely.