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The pianist sat easily at the piano and began the Moskowski selection that had failed to create the expected furore in the afternoon. A cadenza that shivered down the spine like spray from a glacial torrent wakened the room. Then he plunged into the first theme. His small audience listened spell-bound. Betty’s eyes followed the fingers that leaped over the ivory keys like white flame. A subtle current began to play in the room. Steadily it grew in power. Magnetism to the nth degree was being generated. A tremendous chord brought the music to a close and the pianist to his feet. Something in Nell’s glance inspired him. He whirled about the room whistling and imitating some of the cadenzas and other passages from the selection just played. He gesticulated wildly with his hands, the passion for dramatic music oozing from his pores. Max, whose father was a gardener, knew wizard’s tricks with seeds and soils; and as Farmer and Forester to the syndicate, gave his knowledge right and left with happy importance. He taught the girls how to plan and plant their flower beds, and started the boys on a career of vegetable-raising that made them feel rich before they began; talked trees to Harold and other farmer boys, and astonished his father by the questions he asked and the work he did. “Yes; but some one who could take care of himself. And you didn’t expect to open dressmaking parlors.”.
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She put out her hand for the pail but stopped suddenly, for the dog growled; and the next instant the room darkened, and a man stood in the doorway. This remark caused Mrs. Wopp to feel considerable uneasiness. She was morally certain that her Ebenezer in his shyness would make a muddle of the sale, so she hastened to offer a suggestion. Thus adjured by his father the elocutionist began in a loud dramatic voice: “Yes, I could eat a graven image.”.
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