“If he’s such a grand business man, how does he have time to run around listening to singing-lessons?” Thea asked suspiciously.
As she went home to her boarding-house through the February slush, she wished she were going to dine with them. At nine o’clock she looked up from her grammar to wonder what Bowers and Ottenburg were having to eat. At that moment they were talking of her.
IV
Thea noticed that Bowers took rather more pains with her now that Fred Ottenburg often dropped in at eleven-thirty to hear her lesson. After the lesson the young man took Bowers off to lunch with him, and Bowers liked good food when another man paid for it. He encouraged Fred’s visits, and Thea soon saw that Fred knew exactly why.
One morning, after her lesson, Ottenburg turned to Bowers. “If you’ll lend me Miss Thea, I think I have an engagement for her. Mrs. Henry Nathanmeyer is going to give three musical evenings in April, first three Saturdays, and she has consulted me about soloists. For the first evening she has a young violinist, and she would be charmed to have Miss Kronborg. She will pay fifty dollars. Not much, but Miss Thea would meet some people there who might be useful. What do you say?”
Bowers passed the question on to Thea. “I guess you could use the fifty, couldn’t you, Miss Kronborg? You can easily work up some songs.”
Thea was perplexed. “I need the money awfully,” she said frankly; “but I haven’t got the right clothes for that sort of thing. I suppose I’d better try to get some.”
Ottenburg spoke up quickly, “Oh, you’d make nothing out of it if you went to buying evening clothes. I’ve thought of that. Mrs. Nathanmeyer has a troop of daughters, a perfect seraglio, all ages and sizes. She’ll be glad to fit you out, if you aren’t sensitive about wearing kosher clothes. Let me take you to see her, and you’ll find that she’ll arrange that easily enough. I told her she must produce something nice, blue or yellow, and properly cut. I brought half a dozen Worth gowns through the customs for her two weeks ago, and she’s not ungrateful. When can we go to see her?”
“I haven’t any time free, except at night,” Thea replied in some confusion.
“To-morrow evening, then? I shall call for you at eight. Bring all your songs along; she will want us to give her a little rehearsal, perhaps. I’ll play your accompaniments, if you’ve no objection. That will save money for you and for Mrs. Nathanmeyer. She needs it.” Ottenburg chuckled as he took down the number of Thea’s boarding-house.