id you come to keep us company all the afternoon?" asked Aunt Betty.
"Or did you just wish to hear Dorothy play?"

"I thought you wouldn't mind if I sat with you," replied Mr. Ludlow.
"I have quite a few young friends who are to help entertain us this
afternoon. I do hope you shall enjoy them."

Ruth had, in the meantime, presented Dorothy to the other girls in the
group, and they all chattered gayly for a while.

Ruth glanced at her watch, and drawing Dorothy aside, said, "Let's sit
down quietly for a few minutes, and say nothing at all. It always
helps to calm you and give you self-possession."

The girls walked to a far end of the room and sat down, keeping silent
for several minutes.

Then Ruth broke the silence by asking, "Where is your violin,
Dorothy?"

"I guess it's over there where we were standing before," replied
Dorothy, rising and making her way quickly to the spot. But no violin
was visible.

"My!" exclaimed Ruth. "What did you do with it?"

"Oh," lamented Dorothy, "I don't know."

"Where did you have it last?" questioned Ruth.

"I had it home in the hotel," moaned Dorothy, most in tears. "I
remember I did bring it. Alfy handed it to me and I took it in the
taxi."

"In the taxi? That's where you left it, you foolish child,"
interrupted Ruth.

"How, oh how, can I get it? I must have it. I have to play," groaned
Dorothy.

"Run! Run and telephone. Call up the New York Taxicab Company,"
breathlessly exclaimed Ruth. "Oh, oh, Dorothy, I must go! I must! I
just must, yet how can I leave you here--but I have got to sing now.
Oh, I am all out of breath."

"Stop talking, you dear girl, and go and sing your best so as to make
them give you an encore, anything to gain more time for me. Now go!"
And Dorothy kissed her and pushed her forward.

Running down the length of the room, she flew into a telephone booth,
and hastily searching out the number called up Columbus 6,000.

"Hello, hello," called Dorothy, frantically. "Hello! Is--has--a man
come back with a violin in his taxicab--I must have it! I have to
play! Yes. Yes. Yes. No. No. Good-bye."

She hung up the receiver, and sat back despondently. The cab had not
returned in which she had ridden to the hall.

"Oh, what shall I do! No violin and my turn to play next. What shall I
do, oh, what shall I do?"

"Miss Calvert," called the boy. "Your turn next."

"Oh, dear," moaned Dorothy, "see if you can borrow an instrument for
me from one of the