."

He looked down at the rough sketch again, with its clean-cut satire, and
up again at the little girl in the school coat and the faded red tam o'
shanter, who was looking at him shyly, and defiantly, and provokingly,
all at once.

"Your little girl Fanny, h'm? The one who is to give up everything that
the boy Theodore may become a great violinist." He bent again over the
crude, effective cartoon, then put a forefinger gently under the child's
chin and tipped her glowing face up to the light. "I am not so sure now
that it will work. As for its being fair! Why, no! No!"

Fanny waited for her mother that evening, and they walked home together.
Their step and swing were very much alike, now that Fanny's legs were
growing longer. She was at the backfisch age.

"What did he mean, Mother, when he said that about Theodore being a
great violinist, and its not being fair? What isn't fair? And how did he
happen to be in the store, anyway? He bought a heap of toys, didn't he?
I suppose he's awfully rich."

"To-night, when Theodore's at the concert, I'll tell you what he meant,
and all about it."

"I'd love to hear him play, wouldn't you? I'd just love to."

Over Molly Brandeis's face there came a curious look. "You could hear
him, Fanny, in Theodore's place. Theodore would have to stay home if I
told him to."

Fanny's eyes and mouth grew round with horror. "Theodore stay home! Why
Mrs.--Molly--Brandeis!" Then she broke into a little relieved laugh.
"But you're just fooling, of course."

"No, I'm not. If you really want to go I'll tell Theodore to give up his
ticket to his sister."

"Well, my goodness! I guess I'm not a pig. I wouldn't have Theodore stay
home, not for a million dollars."

"I knew you wouldn't," said Molly Brandeis as they swung down Norris
Street. And she told Fanny briefly of what Schabelitz had said about
Theodore.

It was typical of Theodore that he ate his usual supper that night. He
may have got his excitement vicariously from Fanny. She was thrilled
enough for two. Her food lay almost untouched on her plate. She
chattered incessantly. When Theodore began to eat his second baked apple
with cream, her outraged feelings voiced their protest.

"But, Theodore, I don't see how you can!"

"Can what?"

"Eat like that. When you're going to hear him play. And after what he
said, and everything."

"Well, is that any reason why I should starve to death?"

"But I don't see how you can," repeated F