I was
feeling very blue, when something Betty said reminded me of my violin
lessons, and then the very thought made me more cheerful.
Betty and I room together, and Nora and Kathie have the next
apartment; and what did Nora and Betty do but put their heads together
while we were dressing to think of a place in the house where I might
go to practise every afternoon without disturbing papa. One or the
other of the girls practises every afternoon, and the combination of
violin squeaks and piano exercises would, we knew, disturb papa very
much. Miss Marston, we were sure, would not permit them to neglect
their music,--Nora is a fine musician, and Betty would be if she'd
only put the same interest into that that she does into some other
things, such as Indian clubs, and sliding down banisters, and playing
practical jokes,--and we couldn't plan where my violin hour could best
come in, when Nora thought of the old store-room at the top of the
house. That was a good idea, because, by closing the door and hanging
a thick quilt over it, not much of my scraping would escape to mingle
with the piano scale-running, and so annoy papa. The girls' arranging
for me in this way quite cheered me up,--the question of practising
having troubled me a good deal, for I knew a noise of that kind would
seriously interfere with papa's writing, and delay still longer the
completion of the Fetich.
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