"I know you are wondering what I have to say to you, Miss Calvert, so I will come at once to the point. Being in the theatrical business, I am naturally on the lookout for talent along various lines. I have been vividly impressed with your playing to-night and I felt that I should not care to let the opportunity go by to inquire into your future plans."

This was put partly in the form of a question and the girl responded:

"Do you mean, Mr. Ludlow, that you would like to offer me an engagement?"

"That I shall, perhaps, be able to determine when I learn your plans."

"Well, I have none. My lessons are not over with Herr Deichenberg. I shall be under his instruction until next spring, at least."

"And after that?"

"Oh, I cannot say. Before talking over arrangements with you, I should like to discuss the matter with my aunt, Mrs. Calvert."

"That will be agreeable to me, I am sure."

"But she is out in front. I shall be unable to see her until the concert is over."

"To-morrow will do, Miss Calvert. I merely wish to-night to make sure you do not sign a contract with another manager without giving me a chance."

"Oh, I can safely promise that."

"Then I shall be content. Where can I see you to-morrow?"

"We shall be very glad to have you call at Bellvieu."

"Bellvieu, Miss Calvert?"

"Yes; our home in the suburbs. I had forgotten you were not a native Baltimorean."

"At what time will it be convenient for me to call?"

"Either in the morning or afternoon."

"Shall we say ten o'clock, then?"

"Yes."

"I trust I shall not inconvenience your aunt by calling so early."

"Not at all."

"It is imperative that I catch a train for New York at twelve."

Mr. Ludlow took his leave, after expressing his pleasure at having met Dorothy.

The girl's feelings would be hard to describe. That her playing should have awakened the interest of a professional manager was to her rather astonishing.

She was meditating over the offer, and wondering what her prim and staid Aunt Betty would think of it, when Frau Deichenberg entered the dressing-room. The Frau had been on the stage looking after several of the Herr's proteges, and was highly elated over the showing they had made.

"My dear, my dear," she cried. "You have done n.o.bly! Herr Deichenberg is pleased with you beyond measure."

To which Dorothy responded:

"If I have deserved his praise, I am glad. But it seems that I have done so little."

"Ah, but did you not hear de audience? Dey liked your moosic, und dey clap their hands und stamp their feet. Dat iss de one true mark of appreciation."

When the concert was over and Dorothy was traveling homeward in the barouche with Aunt Betty, she told her of the visit of Mr. Ludlow.

Aunt Betty listened patiently until she had finished, then said:

"Dear, I had supposed I was raising you up to something better than a stage career."

"But, auntie, the stage is all right--it must be, there are so many fine people connected with it. And then, it would be the concert stage in my case, and that is different from dramatic work, you know."

"Yes; but violinists, as well as other performers, sometimes listen to the call of the dollar, and go from the concert to the variety stage. I am not sure such connections would be the best for my little girl."

"But, Aunt Betty, it is my life's ambition," said the girl, a queer little catch in her voice.

"There, there," Aunt Betty responded, as she put her arm about the shoulder of her great-niece. "Don't take what I say so much to heart.

We will think this matter over, and you may be very sure of one thing, dear--we shall do what is right and for the best."

And with this for the time being Dorothy was forced to be content.

The matter was put in abeyance for an indefinite time, however, by a message from Mr. Ludlow, the following morning, in which he said he had been called back to New York earlier than he had expected, but that he would not forget the girl, and upon his next visit to Baltimore during the course of the fall or winter, he would arrange to call and settle matters to Dorothy's entire satisfaction.

"And who knows, by then I may have won Aunt Betty over," muttered the girl, who, however, decided to drop the subject until the opportune moment arrived to discuss it.

CHAPTER XI

CHRISTMAS AT BELLVIEU

The fall days slipped rapidly by, and still Dorothy continued to take instruction from Herr Deichenberg, improving her technique with each lesson under the old music master's careful guidance. The concert had been a revelation to her. For the first time in her life she had stood before a great a.s.semblage and heard the roars of applause which her playing aroused, and it had given her confidence as nothing else could.

Aunt Betty's deep-rooted prejudice against a stage career was the only thing that served to mar the girl's pleasure, and even this caused no great unhappiness, for Aunt Betty's refusal to allow Dorothy to play professional engagements took the form only of feeble protests. This led the girl to hope her relative might gradually be won over.

Then, as the holidays approached, bringing a letter from Molly in which she stated that she and the Judge would arrive at Bellvieu several days before Christmas, the stage career was for the time relegated to the innermost recesses of her mind, and she joined Aunt Betty in an effort to have a real, old-fashioned Christmas. This, with the aid of Ephraim, Dinah and Chloe, they were fortunately able to do. As the preparations went forward, Aunt Betty's delight knew no bounds, and her soul was filled with rapturousness as joy after joy unfolded itself to relieve the tedium and monotony of her old age.

A week before the eventful day, Ephraim and Metty, with two other negroes, hired for the occasion, took a team and sleigh and set out for the timber along the sh.o.r.e of the bay. There had been a heavy fall of snow the night before and the ground was covered with a sparkling mantle, while an invigorating breeze from the north filled everyone with energetic desires.

Once at their destination Ephraim and his men felled a large black gum tree from which two logs were cut. These were just short of four feet in length and cut with the especial purpose of filling the two large fire-places in the Calvert mansion.

Returning late in the evening with their load, they rolled the big logs into the duck pond back of the barn, where the crust of ice was thin, there to soak until Christmas morning, at which time they would be placed in their respective fire-places in the big dining and living-rooms of the house, and a fire kindled.

Ephraim was thoroughly familiar with the old custom, and it was understood between him and Aunt Betty that he should keep good fires burning during the day and banked during the night after bed time.

Logs such as these would, by this process, last ten days, or until the holidays had come and gone, for they were burned until not a vestige remained but ashes.