She said I might go up that afternoon; so right after school Nora and I
started out to the Conservatory. I was very nervous, and my violin is
not a very good one; Phil says it's nothing but a fiddle, and that
the old second-hand dealer from whom we bought them--Fee has one,
too,--cheated us. They certainly do squeak dreadfully, at times, when
you least expect it; but then we didn't pay much for them,--you may know
that, when we saved for them out of our allowance!--and, as nurse says,
"If you want a good article, you've got to pay for it;" still, they're a
great deal better than nothing. But to go back to my story: Nora says
that, considering how very nervous I was, and the poor instrument I had,
she thinks I did fairly well. I love violin music! I can't express what
a delight it is to me to play; and the prospect of being able to improve
myself in it made me very happy. The professor that aunt Lindsay wanted
to be my teacher told us his classes were very full, and that the hour I
named for Wednesday and Saturday afternoons was the only time he could
give me; then he said something kind about my playing, that gave me a
little confidence, and sent me home quite radiant.
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