"Isn't it true?" demanded Percival in matter of fact tones.
"The truth when it refers to private matters is not always to be spoken," reproved Mrs. Medulla. "Miss Beatrice, (she pronounced Bee's name after the Italian manner), he is to play one hour longer. I know that I can depend upon you to keep him at his task. You show that you are trustworthy. Percival, be very nice to your friend," and she swept into the house.
So, much to the girl's wonder, she was left as mentor to the boy musician. He looked at her quizzically as he saw her dismay, and began to laugh.
"I am glad that she is gone," he remarked. "I want to have you all to myself."
"Hush, hush!" implored Beatrice, shocked. "You must not speak of your mother that way."
"Mustn't one? Not even when she bores one?"
"No; no, indeed!" replied the girl earnestly. "Now do practice. There's a good little boy!"
"Well, don't you call me little boy any more. I am thirteen."
"You don't look it," remarked Bee with a critical glance at him. "I thought you were not more than ten. Your--"
"Yes; my clothes," interrupted he, frowning darkly. "I just hate them!"
"What makes you wear them then?" asked she, surprised.
"Because I am an Infant Prodigy. Grown people think that I am more of a genius if I dress like a silly. If I wore clothes like a decent boy they wouldn't come to hear me play. So I have to wear these things--" with a gesture of disgust. "I've worn them for ages and ages. I suppose that I'll die wearing them, and being an Infant Prodigy. And these curls! Do you think a real fellow likes to go around like a girl? Well, I guess not. Whenever old Heinrich, he's my tutor, says: 'We must have a new Fauntleroy suit for de boy, madam,' I just wish Fauntleroy had never been born."
"But he wasn't," spoke Bee. "He's just a character in a book, Percival."
"'Mounts to the same thing," answered Percival, "if I have to dress like him. But just you wait. When I'm a little older, you'll see. Your hair looks funny too," turning the subject suddenly. "What makes it so dark at the roots, and so yellow everywhere else? Did you bleach it?"
"Yes;" said Bee humbly, her face flushing. "You see I have a cousin who is very beautiful, and I wished to look like her, so I had my hair bleached. I am sorry that I did it now, and I am letting it grow out. Just as soon as it gets long enough to look well, I will have the yellow part cut off. Now do play, or your mother will be sorry that I came."