Kolb, who was an extensive dealer in violins Dolly had taken lessons of an excellent teacher, who was also an excellent judge of a violin, and had chosen hers for her. She had at various times heard him talk about some of the famous old violin-makers, and recognized their names when she heard them spoken. As she took Hope's violin from her hands, she said,--

"Oh, yours is about the size of mine. Mine is English, but it is modelled on the famous old Stradivari pattern of Cremona, my teacher said. You know Stradivari was one of the most famous of the Cremona makers," looking up at Hope with an air of wisdom.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SHE TOOK HOPE'S VIOLIN FROM HER HANDS"]

Hope nodded.

"But this is a pretty little violin,--sort of quaint-looking," went on Dolly, amiably. She was fast recovering her spirits, forgetting her grievances and homesickness in her present interest, with her accustomed alacrity.

"Yes, I think it is pretty," Hope answered quietly.

"Very pretty; I really think it is prettier than mine, and what a nice red color it has! Who made it, do you know?"

"An Italian named Montagnana."

"Oh! does he have a shop in London? Did your teacher get it for you there?"

"No, I don't think he was ever in London, even when he was living. But he died a great while ago. He lived in Cremona first, then in Venice."

"In Cremona! How long ago?"

"Well, he was a pupil of Stradivari, and he lived in Cremona in the year 1740, and after he had studied for a time with Stradivari, he went to Venice, where the manufacture of violins was very flourishing."

"What! this is a real Cremona violin?" cried Dolly. "Why--why, Mr.

Andrews, my teacher, said that they were very rare, and when you did succeed in getting hold of one that it took a lot of money to buy it."

Hope made no response to this speech; and Dolly, looking up at her, caught the expression of her face, and hastened to say,--

"I didn't mean that I didn't believe it was a Cremona violin; but I was so astonished, you know, because I'd heard Mr. Andrews go on so about Cremona violins."

Hope was old enough now to see that Dolly was honest in her excuse,--that she had really meant no offence,--and, relenting a little, replied,--

"Yes, I suppose it _is_ hard to find a genuine old Cremona; but my first teacher was an old German musician, and his brother, who is a dealer in violins in Paris, procured this for me."

"But didn't it cost a lot of money?"

"It was expensive."

Dolly would have given a great deal to know just how expensive was that beautiful little instrument, with its nice red color; but even she couldn't bring herself to ask the question outright of that tall, reserved girl, who was so perfectly polite and yet so far off from her.

Who was this girl, anyway, she thought,--this girl, no older than herself, whose father could and would buy a Cremona violin for her? Her own father--the Hon. James Dering--was a rich man, and a generous one, but he would have laughed at the proposition of buying a Cremona violin for his daughter. Why, Cremona violins were for professionals--when they could get them--and enthusiastic collectors. But perhaps--perhaps this girl was going to be a professional. With this new idea in her mind, Dolly gave another glance at Hope. A professional? No, that could not be. A girl who was preparing to be a professional wouldn't be here at Miss Marr's school. But a Cremona violin! Dolly wouldn't have been at all astonished if a girl had shown her a fine watch-case set about with diamonds. Mary had a very valuable watch of that kind, and she herself had the promise of one like it when she was as old as Mary. It didn't occur to her that a Cremona violin was a piece of property that was yearly advancing in value; that it was, in fact, a better investment, as the phrase is, than diamonds even. She had heard her father say often that diamonds would always bring their market value, and that they were therefore very safe property to hold, though not bringing in any interest. That a violin of any kind could have this property value did not enter her head, and Hope's possession grew more and more puzzling to her. Hope all the time had a keen sense of her companion's wonder and curiosity, and was half amused, half irritated by it. But she succeeded very well in concealing the state of her feelings, and was as polite as ever, even when Dolly nearly dropped the precious Cremona, only giving utterance to a little gasping "Oh!" Dolly herself was rather frightened at the possible accident, and was glad to hand the instrument back to its owner. As she did so, she asked suddenly,--

"Have you lived abroad? Did you take lessons abroad?"

"Yes, I have lived abroad, and I took lessons nearly all the time I was away."

"Where were you,--in Germany?"

"No, in Paris part of the time and part of the time in London."

"How jolly!"

"Yes, it was rather jolly sometimes, though both my French and English teachers were very exacting, and made me work hard."

"Oh! I don't mean the work,--the violin lessons; I mean the living in London and Paris," answered Dolly, frankly.

Hope couldn't help laughing at this frankness.

Dolly laughed a little too, but she was quite in earnest, nevertheless, and began another string of questions,--what Hope saw, where she went, what she bought, etc.

Hope's answers did not open the field of entertainment that Dolly expected, for galleries and museums and music and quiet pleasures of that kind were not what Dolly was thinking of in connection with Paris and London.

"But didn't you visit people, and go to theatres and things, and have fun?" she asked at length.

Hope smiled a queer, amused smile that Dolly didn't understand, as she answered: "I didn't go abroad to have fun of that sort, but I had a beautiful time."

"I suppose you had a beautiful time slaving away at that violin."

"I did, indeed," answered Hope, laughing outright.

"What a lot you must know about a violin!"

"I? Oh, no, no!"

Hope at that instant was putting a pile of music upon a little music-rack. Dolly caught sight of the upper sheet.

"What! you play those things of Bach? Well, you _must_ know a lot!"

"No, I _love_ a lot, and I've studied hard, that's all."

"I should say so; and here," turning over the pages, "are Mendelssohn and Beethoven and Chopin. Why, I should think you were studying to play in public. Oh! but here is something more frivolous, more in my style,"

pouncing upon a waltz. "Oh, I just dote on waltzes; try this now, do."

"Oh, no, not now; it is too late. We must have our lights out by ten, and it is fifteen minutes to ten this moment."

"Oh, bother!" and Dolly wrinkled up her forehead. "I hate to go to bed."

Hope's only reply to this remark was, "Then, if you'll excuse me and turn out the gas when you are ready, I'll say good-night, for I'm very tired;" and hastily retreating behind her screen, she left Dolly to her own devices.

Tired as she was, however, it was a long time before Hope could sleep.

Dolly, too, lay awake for a while, thinking over the many incidents of the day. But her thoughts were not perplexed thoughts like Hope's. She had no hurt remembrance of the past to perplex her. She had not by any means entirely forgotten the little flower-girl, though she had forgotten her name; but the memory of her was a latent one, and was not for an instant stirred by her present companion's personality. Hope was quite a new acquaintance to her. It never occurred to Dolly that she had ever seen her before, unless she was really that girl whom she had seen with the Edlicotts last spring. It was one of Dolly's characteristics not to brood long over anything disagreeable; and lying there in the still darkness, and reflecting upon the incidents of the day, the little surprises and mortifications began to give way to a sense of interest and antic.i.p.ation, the princ.i.p.al point of interest at the moment being Hope and her violin. Oddly enough, from the time that Dolly had seen Hope coming down the hall, and had received that courteous little greeting from her, she had been attracted towards her. The rather stiff politeness that had followed, if disappointing, had not been repelling, and the subsequent bedroom chat, with its revelation of musical accomplishments and foreign experiences, to say nothing of that wonderful Cremona violin, had made a fresh impression upon Dolly of such power that even Miss Marr's attractiveness became quite secondary in her mind.

Hope could not but see something of this. She was not flattered by it, however, for as she thought over it, she said to herself,--

"It is not the real Hope Benham who attracts her, but a young lady who has lived abroad, and who is rich enough to own a Cremona violin, and to play Bach and Beethoven studies upon it. If she knew that I was the girl who sold her the flowers at the Brookside station, things would be quite different."