"I can never be Flossy," Marion said to herself, an amused smile hovering around her lips meanwhile, at the thought that she should have a shadow of desire to become their little Flossy. "But it is worth while to steal her secret of success, if I can, and practise it."
Close watching revealed a good deal of the secret; as much of it at least as could be put into words. Evidently the little lady had the power of making other people's interests her own for the time being; of impressing the one with whom she came in contact, with a sense of his own importance, in her eyes; at least she was interested in what he said and did, and in what interested him. She could enter into the minute details of a matter which did not concern her in the least, with such apparent interest and desire to know all that was to be known about it, that one could hardly help the feeling that certainly the subject was worthy of attention.
Then her face spoke for her; it could cloud in an instant in sympathy with any sort of trouble or anxiety, and sparkle with happy smiles in the very next second over some bit of brightness that was mentioned.
"She is a blessed little hypocrite, and that is the whole of it," was Marion's mental comment. "That sort of hypocrisy is worth studying. It is as natural to Flossy as that lovely pink on her cheek; but I am afraid I should have to acquire it; I don't feel interested in other people's affairs; now, that is a fact. Why should she? In the first place, I know it is natural for her to like to please people; that is the beginning of it; she has that advantage over me, for she was always so, and I always wasn't so. But she has something else; she did not care once to please such as these rough boys of hers, at least they were rough when she started the refining process; how she had worked for them; I never realized it so much as to-night. It is just this: she has sanctified her power of pleasing, and put it to a grand use in fishing for souls. Meantime, I have some degree of power of that kind, though it doesn't show in the same way. But I am not sure I have thought of it, with a view to using it for such work; also, I dare say one can cultivate an interest in other people if they try. I mean to try. I know one way in which I can please people, I can sing."
Whereupon she immediately sought Ruth and proposed music, herself going after Rich. Johnson to come and sing tenor, and bidding him bring a friend to sing bass. Then such music as they had that evening, was certainly never heard at a party at Mr. Shipley's house before.
The music room was a little bower of a spot at the left of the parlors. It was not only the music room but the flower room; at least there were vines and plants and blooming flowers in the windows, festooning the curtains, hanging from lovely wire baskets, a profusion everywhere. Thither went Ruth, Marion, and the two young men who went in silence from very astonishment over this new invitation. In silence and embarrassment, believing in their hearts that they could not sing at all. As for Marion, she knew better. She had stood near them in Sunday-school.
Ruth swept the piano clear of all sheet music and substituted the Bliss and Sankey Gospel hymns, and Marion passed a book to each, naming a page, and instantly her full, grand voice joined Ruth's music. Very faint were the tenor and bass accompaniments; but as the first verse closed and they entered upon the second, the melody had gotten possession of their hearts, and they let out their voices without knowing it, so that when the piece was ended, Marion turned with a bright face, and said:
"I haven't enjoyed a song so much in years. What a splendid tenor you sing, Mr. Johnson." To herself she said: "There! I'm improving; I honestly think that. But twenty-four hours ago, I should have kept it to myself. It isn't hypocrisy, after all: it is sincerity."
Another, and another piece was tried, the music room meantime filling; for Flossy had brought in her train others of the boys. And at last, as the last verse of "Hold the Fort" rang out, Marion turned from the piano to discover that utmost silence prevailed in the rooms where chatter had been before, and every available place in and about the music room was filled with hushed listeners, while those who could not get in, sat or stood outside in silence and wrapt attention. Such music as that at a party they had never heard before.
"You and I are a success, I think," Marion said brightly, as she linked her hand in Ruth's arm, when they left the piano.