There was warmth and richness, the warbling of birds, the
melody of brooks, in the rendering, and Bernice heard a half-sigh close
beside her.
"I wish I could sing! O, always I wanted to sing!"
Then for the first time she saw who sat there--a tall, handsome,
beautifully gowned girl whom she had noticed several times during the
evening, and to whom everybody seemed to defer. She had heard vaguely that
this was Elizabeth's cousin, and wondered if it was for her that Elizabeth
had given the party.
"And can't you?" she asked, evincing instant interest.
The girl turned toward her with a smile. "Not at all. Sometimes I used to
try when no one heard, and once when I was in the hammock with my brother's
little girl, I joined her in the song she was singing. She looked at me in
a minute with a rueful countenance, and said, 'Aunt Helen, I can't sing
when you are making such a noise!'" Bernice laughed. "I haven't tried much
since," the tall girl added.
"We have singing lessons at school twice a week," Bernice said, presently,
"but I like the every-day lessons better."
"Do you? I like mathematics, and sloyd, and a hammer and nails and saw.
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