Page:Our Little Girl (1923).pdf/61

 school, the only subject in which you showed any aptitude was music. And now, because you aren’t able to sing as well as a woman who has devoted her life to singing, you wish to give up your work with her—well, for what?”

Dorothy had no answer. She started to speak and found that there was nothing to say. Then she began to cry and ran from the room.

That evening her father approached her.

“What’s this I hear about your wanting to stop lessons with Madame Schneider?” he demanded.

Dorothy was silent. Mr. Loamford never persisted long. She would let this episode spend itself.

“Your mother and I can’t understand it at all,” he went on. “She’s exceptionally competent. You should consider yourself fortunate to have such a good teacher.”

Dorothy continued silent.

“Tf you have anything to say,” her father added, “I'll be glad to hear it, But I can’t understand what whim has got this idea into your head.”

Mrs. Loamford never had been able to keep aloof from a domestic altercation. She joined in.

“Isn’t it absurd, Samuel,”’ she demanded rhetorically, “how Dorothy has gotten this notion that Madame Schneider isn’t good enough for her?”

Dorothy backed away. Her mother was about to speak again when she let out a loud scream.

“You can’t make me take lessons!” she cried. “You can’t do it! I don’t like that woman! That’s all! I don’t want to sing anyhow! I’m doing it as a favor to you! I don’t like that woman! I hate her! I hate singing! Oh God! Can’t you let me alone?”

Dorothy, sobbing violently, ran upstairs to her room.

“Only hysteria,” declared Mrs, Loamford.

Her husband started away.