Alas! Tom had failed her in her hour of need. He seemed to think that the privilege of improvising should be enjoyed only by a player on the violin, and that it would be the grossest presumption on the part of a vocalist so to indulge her imagination. And thus, bringing weariness and disappointment to the girl, the day wore away.
When the family dinner was over, there were numerous callers at the house in Pierrepont Street. Among them there was an elderly gentleman named Long, who was treated with marked civility by Mr. Linley.
When he had left the house, and Tom and Betsy were alone, the former, after referring to some of the visitors, inquired:
"Who is that old gentleman whom you called Mr. Long?"
"He is nothing in particular; that is why I am going to marry him," said she.
Apparently Tom was not greatly startled by the declaration which his sister had made to him. He was screwing up a new string which he had just put on his violin, and he continued twanging it with his thumb as he raised it to the proper note in the scale. She watched him, with his head slightly turned to one side, and she heard the string creep up by quarter-tones until at last it satisfied his fastidious ear. Then he played pizzicato on all the strings for a while before he said:
"He is the man whom I am going to marry," said she.
"He is the man I am going to marry," said she.
"I saw by the papers that were sent to me from time to time that you had many suitors," said he. "I did not pay much attention to the papers, but now I recollect that some of them made sport of an elderly admirer. I suppose Mr. Long was he?"
"I daresay. Mr. Long cannot help his age. 'Tis not more absurd for him to be old than it is for me to be young. I suppose some newspapers would think it no shame to slight me for being young."
He gave a passable imitation of an Italian's shrug--he had learned something beyond the playing of the violin in Italy.
"_Che sarà sarà_," said he, and there was a shrug in his voice. "After all, what does it matter whom one marries?"
"That's exactly what I say!" she cried, her quick ear catching his cynical tone. "What does it matter? I must marry some one, and is it not better for me to marry a man to whom I am indifferent than one whom I detest?"