“You will have all the time in the world for nonsense after you’ve mastered the things you need to know. What you want to do is to put your heart in cold storage for a while, as you did your sense of humor. Just be an amiable and obedient genius-flapper and everything else will true up and appear in due season, just as the curtain speeches during the last act reveal the missing will, the lost child and soften the irate parent’s heart against the poor but proud hero.” “But I don’t want always to have some part of me in cold storage,” Thurley protested. “I’ve always been such—such a very real person that it’s hard to—” “Of course, that’s the best part of it. Easy things never get you anywhere. Effective medicine is almost always bitter.” He came to put his hands on her shoulders. “Why, you’re not so old,” she said bluntly, “are you?” “Not half so old as I’d like to be; age is so safe, Thurley, when you are dealing in temperament! You can growl much more effectively.” “You mean people fall in love with you?” she asked spiritedly. “Is that what you shrink from?” Her naïve impertinence was unconscious. “I cringe! Which is worse than mere shrinking.” He gave her a little shake. “You funny, round-cheeked girl, run along. You’ll be in opera before we realize it and adopting the airs and graces of an empress. But I shall remember you as the direct, rosy-cheeked young person who demanded if I feared having people love me.” His eyes closed briefly and then he whirled her around as if she were a small boy. “Be off! Ah, yes, here’s a note—I nearly did forget.” He reached in an inner pocket and handed over a cream-colored envelope with a heavy lavender seal. “From her who you fancied was my wife,” he explained, enjoying her confusion. “Ernestine Christian, one of our ‘family.’ She does not start her season until January, but then she’s going to tell you all that. You’ll have to drive fast to be on time, for you’re to take tea with her at half after four. And don’t forget two things: First, you sang the aria in five-and-ten-cent style; and, secondly, you’re a nice apple-cheeked kiddie and deserve splendid things!” He waved her out jocularly, and she found herself going through the anterooms reading the note and not speaking to the secretary. All it said was: Thurley Precore— Come take tea with me at half-past four. Bliss says we are to know each other. Ernestine Christian. Here at least was a breathing space from lessons. Some one had asked her to tea who would, one would assume, be willing to answer questions. She called a cab and drove to the address. CHAPTER XI