Part 13 (1/2)

”I didn't take your method of finding it out, you may be sure,” replied Marion. ”I never heard a word about it before this afternoon; but if you put two and two together they generally make four, that's all.”

”What do you mean by putting 'two and two together'?” impatiently asked Julia Thayer.

”Why, just this!” replied Marion. ”Does Mr. Stein have an earthly thing to do with this school except to give us music-lessons? and is there anything that Miss Stiefbach could be getting up with him, that concerned the 'young ladies' that didn't have something to do with our music? and would she be inviting people here when it was convenient to _him_ if it wasn't that they are going to give a musicale, and he is going to make us play? So there you've got the whole matter; I don't think it required much brilliancy to see that.”

”Well, I _never_ should have thought of it!” exclaimed Sarah.

”Nor I either,” said Florence. ”But don't you think it is awfully mean not to have let us known anything about it beforehand, so that we might have had time to practise?”

”I presume Mr. Stein has been secretly drilling us for it this long time, though we poor, unconscious victims didn't suspect it,” replied Marion. ”But there's Georgie, she has the advantage of us; she has probably decided what she is going to play, and has learned it perfectly.” But there was no reply from Georgie as she had discreetly left the room.

”Oh, isn't she sly?” exclaimed Grace Minton.

”Sly! sly isn't the word for it,” put in Sarah Brown in her most energetic tones; ”she ought to have been named Foxy Graham!”

”Well, there's one thing certain,” said Grace Minton, ”I shan't have to play; I thank my stars for that!”

”I wonder who will play,” said Florence. ”Georgie Graham of course; Julia; and you Mab; and I rather guess I shall have to. Well, I don't much care, I don't believe there will be many here, and I think it's time I learned to play before strangers.”

”I don't know how I shall ever get on in the world,” cried Marion in a despairing tone; ”that is about the only thing I never could do.”

”And I think it is so strange,” remarked Julia Thayer; ”for you see so much company at home, and always seem so self-possessed wherever you are, that it does seem queer that you are afraid to play before people.”

”I know it. I dare say every one thinks it is all affectation,” replied Marion, ”for I know you all think I've got a.s.surance enough to do most anything; but it is the honest truth, that I'm frightened half to death whenever I sit down to play to any one; and if I get along well at this affair of Miss Stiefbach's, it will be nothing but my _will_ that carries me through.”

”So you mean to play, do you?” asked Georgie Graham, who at this juncture suddenly made her appearance in the room.

”Yes, I mean to play if I'm asked, and I suppose I shall be, because I think I ought. I am determined to overcome this ridiculous nervousness, even if it is at the expense of fifty mortifying failures before I do it; so, girls, look out and prepare yourselves for a public disgrace; for of _course_ there is not one of you who would not take it quite to heart if I should break down.”

”Well,” replied Sarah Brown in the most energetic tone (Sarah almost always spoke in italics), ”I know I for one should feel dreadfully; though of _course_ I can't answer for some of the rest of us;” and she cast a meaning glance at Georgie.

”I'm sure, Marion, I _hope_ you won't fail,” said Georgie as she picked up her work, her ostensible reason for coming back, and left the room.

”I know one thing,” exclaimed Sarah; ”if that girl kept a list of all the lies she tells in a week, white and black; she'd use up all the letter-paper there is in the town.”

”O Sallie!” laughed Florence, ”you're too severe. I'm afraid you don't entertain a Christian spirit towards Georgie.”

”I don't, and I don't pretend to!” answered Sarah. ”I never did like her, and I never shall; she's always saying something to aggravate me.”

”But she didn't say anything to you then,” said Julia Thayer, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes; ”she was only _hoping_ that Marion would not break down.”

”Yes, and a lot she hoped it!” excitedly replied Sarah; ”there's nothing would suit her better than to have Mab make a regular failure of it; and I just wanted to let her know I thought so.”

”Now, Sarah,” said Marion, in a half-laughing, half-serious tone, ”don't you trouble yourself to fight my battles. I think I am quite equal to it myself; besides, you'll have your hands full to look after your own squabbles.”

”There's ingrat.i.tude for you!” said Grace Minton. ”If I were you, Sallie, I never would trouble myself about her again; she doesn't deserve such a champion.”

”Oh, I don't mind what she says,” replied Sarah, good-naturedly; ”she can't make me hold my tongue, and I shall say just what I've a mind to, to that Georgie Graham, so long as she keeps on tormenting me.”

That evening the whole school was informed that on the following Friday Miss Stiefbach was to give a soiree musicale, at which ten of the scholars were to perform.