Johanna in the tone of mild reproof that came natural to her, in
speaking to her little sister. "Is anything the matter to-day? If you
don't practice better than this, you won't have the ETUDE ready by
Friday, and Herr Becker will make you take it again--for the third
time."

"He can if he likes. I guess I don't care," said Ephie nonchalantly,
and, seizing the opportunity offered for a break, she sat down, and
laid bow and fiddle on the table.

"Have you remembered everything he pointed out to you at your last
lesson?" asked Johanna, going over to the music-stand, and peering at
the pages with her shortsighted eyes. "Let me see--what was it now?
Something about this double-stopping here, and the fingering in this
position."

Ephie laughed. "Old Joan, what do you know about it?"

"Not much, dear, I admit," said Johanna pleasantly. "But try and master
it, like a good girl. So you can get rid of it, and go on to something
else."

Ephie sat back, clasped her hands behind her head, and gave a long
sigh. "Yes, to the next one," she said. "Oh, if you only knew how sick
I am of them, Joan! The next won't be a bit better than this. They are
all alike--a whole book of them."

Johanna looked down at the little figure with the plump, white arms,
and discontented expression; and she tried to find in the childish face
something she had previously not seen there.

"Are you tired of studying, Ephie?" she asked. "Would you like to leave
off and go away?"

"Go away from Leipzig? Where to?" Ephie did not unclasp her hands, but
her eyes grew vigilant.

"Oh, there are plenty of other places, child. Dresden--or Weimar--or
Stuttgart--where you could take lessons just as well. Or if you are
tired of studying altogether, there is no need for you to go on with
it. We can return home, any day. Sometimes, I think it would be better
if we did. You have not been yourself lately, dear. I don't think you
are very well."

"I not myself?--not well? What rubbish you talk, Joan! I am quite well,
and wish you wouldn't tease me. I guess you want to go away yourself.
You are tired of being here. But nothing shall induce me to go. I love
old Leipzig. And I still have heaps to learn before I leave off
studying.--I don't even know whether I shall be ready by spring. It all
depends. And now, Joan, go away." She took up her violin and put it on
her shoulder. "Now it's you who are wasting time. How can I practise
when you stand there talking?"

Joh