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FLAMING

YOUTH

135

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” he declared so vehemently that she pouted. “Now youw’re scolding me.” “Because you’re letting a voice like that go untrained.” “Lots of people like it as it is,” she said resentfully. “Then they don’t recognise what a really lovely thing it might be, properly handled. Why haven’t you taken lessons?” Again the shrug. “Idid. But Istopped. Too much trouble. Will you teach me?” “I? Heavens, no! You want a professional.” “What! and practice an hour every day?” cried the horrified Pat. “Two hours. Three probably. It would be worth it.” “I'd be bored to a frazz.” “You’re bored with anything that means work, discipline, self-restraint.

Aren’t you, Pat?”

“Are you going to lecture me again? I love it,” she observed unexpectedly and with a brilliant smile. In spite of himself he laughed. “No. I’m going to take you to the concert. Get your hat.” Settling herself in the car like a contented kitten, Pat presently said: “There’s something I want to tell you, Mr. Scott. Only it isn’t too easy to begin.” “Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?” “Right! That makes it easier. You remember at the club; what we talked about?” 6V

ag,”

“P’ve been awfully good—about that. I haven’t, at all. At least, nothing serious.” “J am flattered to have been so good an infiuence,” he remarked with his faintly ironic inflection. Constance would not have caught it. But little Pat’s ear was truer. “Don’t josh me about it,” she protested. ‘“Nobody’s

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