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 assemblage 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 to