“What is it?” Judy asked, her eyes glistening with anticipation.
“Open it and see for yourself,” Uncle Yahn smilingly ordered.
It was a small cuckoo clock! She swallowed hard to conceal her disappointment, and with a mischievous glance at Karl’s glum face said, “Isn’t it adorable!”
Uncle Yahn beamed. “You see, Karl, I told you she would find it most admirable.”
Mr. Lurie and Uncle Yahn seemed to take to each other at once. There was a lovely sunset, just perfect for their cookout. Both were hovering over the crude stones of the grille, watching the steak but more intent on their talk, skiing and music.
Mrs. Lurie, relaxed and comfortable in a reclining chair, was entertaining Karl.
“There I was, announced in all the papers and posters as the great lyric soprano,” she smiled. “You know the extravagant language of those billings—and my accompanist had broken his wrist an hour after we got off the plane. The manager combed the city for someone to accompany me. We decided to cancel the engagement when at the very last moment a noted pianist, just returned from his tour—”
Judy had heard the story. Her attention wavered as she caught snatches of the conversation between her father and Uncle Yahn. She heard Karl’s name and moved a little closer to them.
“It looks as if Karl will have an unusual opportunity, that is, if he proves himself worthy.” Uncle Yahn wagged his head mysteriously.
“What opportunity?” her father asked.