Page:Our Little Girl (1923).pdf/55

 She struck a few notes on the piano and asked Dorothy to sing them. Dorothy produced them in a quavering tone. She couldn’t sing for a woman who looked and spoke like a nursery governess.

“Don’t be nervous,” advised her mother.

Madame Schneider admonished silence with a polite but imperious motion.

It was a temptation to sing as badly as possible in the hope of having Madame Schneider declare her impossible. Dorothy thought that to be taught by a pedantic little woman like this was no better than learning French verbs from Mlle. Jeanne, the weak sister of Miss Blagden’s faculty.

“Try it again, my dear,” said Madame Schneider.

There was a slight improvement, and other exercises followed. The final one was beyond Dorothy’s powers.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she confessed.

She didn’t care, either. “Tt’s not very hard,” said Madame Schneider. “Listen."

She played the sequence of notes on the piano, and rather surprised Dorothy and Mrs. Loamford by singing them in a clear, powerful soprano voice, taking the last top-note with ease.

“Some day you'll do that, Dorothy," commented Mrs. Loamford.

Dorothy smiled feebly. She disliked Madame Schneider’s vocal efficiency as much as she disliked her manners.

“It’s a matter of method—and practice,” explained Madame Schneider.

“My daughter’s voice is worth cultivating, isn’t it?” said Mrs. Loamford. “Dorothy dear, please sit outside, while Madame Schneider and I discuss this matter.”