"Are you getting tired, dear?" asked Mrs. Birch of Evelyn, when the
"_Intermezzo_" was finished, noting the flush on the delicate cheek.
Evelyn looked up brightly.
"Not enough to hurt me. I'm enjoying it so! Aren't large families
lovely? I was so much younger than my brothers and sisters that by the
time I was old enough to care about having good times like this on
winter evenings they were all away at school or married. We never had
anything so nice as a family orchestra, either. I wish I could play
something."
"How about the piano?" asked Charlotte, who sat near. Evelyn's flush
grew pinker.
"I can play a little," she said. "But you don't need the piano."
"Yes, we do. A piano would add ever so much. Next time we'll have our
practice at home, and give you a part."
Then she glanced at Lucy, and saw what might have been expected, a look
of envy and discontent. "Is there anything you can play, Lucy?" she
asked. "It would be very nice to have everybody in. Perhaps Ran could
have a triangle."
"I play the piano," said Lucy.
"Oh, give Lucy the piano," Evelyn said, quickly,--also as might have
been expected.
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