Part 4 (1/2)

”Something's bound to happen,” she repeated determinedly, and she took Judith's arm and skipped a couple of steps along the dim platform, much to that young lady's horror.

”It's simply bound to happen, Judy,” she said out loud, but to Judith's puzzled questions she would give no answer save a little confident laugh.

CHAPTER IV

TANCREDI'S TWO PUPILS

And something did actually happen. It was in the most unexpected way and it came from a quarter that caused Patricia to believe in modern miracles.

She had gone with some quaking to her appointment with Madame Tancredi, and she was waiting alone in the anteroom--Elinor having left her for some necessary shopping until the lesson should be over--when the maid ushered in a girl in sumptuous street clothes, carrying a music roll of extravagant design.

Patricia loved pretty clothes and pretty people, and the girl was undeniably pretty in a dark, tropical way. She moved with graceful, gliding steps and her face under the wide drooping velvet hat looked amiable as well as comely.

Patricia wanted to speak to her, but was uncertain as to the propriety of the act. The girl solved her difficulty, however, by choosing a chair near Patricia's, and, settling easily in it with an accustomed air of being agreeable, smiled pleasantly and spoke in a most melodious voice.

”Are you the new pupil?” she asked, apparently less from curiosity than a desire to break the silence. ”I have heard that Madame was expecting someone recommended by Milano, but since she didn't tell me any more than just that much, I may be mistaken.”

Patricia eagerly a.s.sured her that she was indeed the expected student, adding a rather anxious question as to the manner of instructor she was to have in Madame Tancredi.

The girl laughed a tinkling laugh which showed her faultless little white teeth and waved her hand in quite the foreign manner.

”Tancredi is very well as teachers go,” she said with an indifference that seemed superhuman to the quivering Patricia, who immediately set her up in her mind as authority on matters musical.

”I've never studied before,” she confessed, with a tinge of confusion.

”I am afraid Madame will find me awfully stupid.”

The girl looked at her with a lightening of her amiable, indifferent air. ”Are you really so very young as all that?” she asked in some surprise. ”You look very childish in this dim light, but I thought you must be old enough to have studied somewhere before this. Tancredi doesn't usually take rank amateurs.”

Patrica felt very small indeed before this calm criticism, but she confessed bravely, though with flus.h.i.+ng cheeks. ”I am past seventeen,”

she said resolutely. ”And I've been waiting six months to begin study.”

And then at the encouraging look on the other's face she rushed into a rather jumbled account of her aspirations, her trials and lastly her disappointment of yesterday in being refused admittance at Artemis Lodge on the score of lack of room.

The girl listened closely, and Patricia thought she nodded approval at the names of Bruce Hayden and Greycroft, and showed a keener interest when Milano's visit to Rockham was hastily mentioned. She made few comments, however, and when the gong rang, rose to go into the studio with graceful alacrity.

At the threshold she paused to say, ”If you are here when I come out, I should like to see you again,” and then with a return of her amiable, indifferent air, she pa.s.sed into the inner sanctum, leaving the impulsive Patricia wors.h.i.+ping at her shrine.

Some sounds of liquid melody found their way out through the heavy doors, and helped to make the tedious half hour pa.s.s like magic.

Patricia was thankful she had made a mistake in the time and had arrived so much too soon, since it gave her the opportunity of having even this small glimpse into the world of music before she ventured into it herself.

The girl came out, and her expression was heightened into positive radiance. Evidently her lesson had been a good one and she had been praised.

Coming over to where Patricia still sat, she stood for a moment looking down on her. Then she smiled her slow smile and held out her hand.

”I am Rosamond Merton,” she said, ”and I know that you are Patricia Kendall. I am living at the Lodge while I study with Madame. I have three rooms there. Will you come and stay with me for a month?”

Patricia gasped. ”Why--” she began in some confusion. ”Oh, you're awful kind, but--but--you don't know me at all.”