"I don't understand your perplexity, that is the fact," said she with wonderful candor; "but then I have been trained to do one thing from the time I could wink."
"It was expected of me that I should rival the greatest performers," said Leonhard with a half-sad smile. "If I go abroad now, as you advise—"
"Advise? I advise!"
"Did you not?"
"Not the least creature moving. Never!"
"If you did you would say, 'Keep to music.'"
"I should say, 'Keep to architecture.' Then—don't you see?—I should have all your pupils."
"That would matter little: you have long had all that I could give you worth the giving, Miss Ayres."
Were these words intent on having utterance, and seeking their opportunity?
In the midst of her lightness and seeming unconcern the young lady found herself challenged, as it were, by the stern voice of a sentinel on guard. But she answered on the instant: "The most delicious music I have ever heard, for which I owe you endless thanks. I have said architecture; but I never advise, you know."