Dr.Ballard had gone,and his hostesses were awaiting the summons to dinner.Mrs.Evringham regarded her daughter critically as the girl sat at the piano,idly running her fingers over the keys.
The listlessness expressed in the fresh face and rounded figure brought a look of disapproval into the mother's eyes.
"You must practice that nocturne,"she said."You played it badly just now,and there is no excuse for it,Eloise.""If you will let me give lessons I will,"responded the girl promptly,without turning her graceful,drooping head.
The unexpected reply was startling.
"What are you talking about?"asked Mrs.Evringham.
"Oh,I'm so tired of it all,"replied the girl wearily.
A frown contracted her mother's forehead."Tired of what?Turn around here!"She rose and put her hands on the pretty shoulders and turned her child until the clear gray eyes met hers."Now then,tired of what?"Eloise smiled slightly,and sighed."Of playing nocturnes to Dr.
Ballard."
"And he is quite as tired of hearing you,I dare say,"was the retort.
"It seems to me you always stumble when you play to the doctor,and he adores Chopin."Eloise continued to meet her mother's annoyed gaze,her hands fallen in her lap,all the lines of her nut-brown hair,her exquisite face,and pliable,graceful figure so many silent arguments,as they always were,against any one's harboring annoyance toward her.
"You say he does,mother,and you have assured him of it so often that the poor man doesn't dare to say otherwise;but really,if you'd let him have the latest Weber and Field hit,I think he would be so grateful.""Learn it then!"returned Mrs.Evringham.
Eloise laughed lazily."Intrepid little mother!"Then she added,in a different tone,"Don't you think there is any danger of our being too obliging?I'm not the only girl in town whose mother wishes her to oblige Dr.Ballard.May we not overreach ourselves?""Eloise!"Mrs.Evringham's half-affectionate,half-remonstrating grasp fell from her child's shoulders."That remark is in very bad taste."The girl shook her head slowly."I never can understand why it is any satisfaction to you to pretend.You find comfort in pretending that Mr.Evringham likes to have us here,likes us to use his carriages,to receive his friends,and all the rest of it.We've been here seven weeks and three days,and that little game of pretending is satisfying you still.You are like the ostrich with its head in the sand."Mrs.Evringham drew her lithe figure up."Well,Eloise,I hope there are limits to this.To call your own mother an--an ostrich!""Don't speak so loud,"returned the girl,rising and patting her mother's hand."Grandfather has returned from his ride.I just heard him come in.It is too near dinner time for a scene.There is no need of our pretending to each other,is there?You have always put me off and put me off,but surely you mean to bring this to an end pretty soon?""You could bring it to an end at once if you would!"returned Mrs.