Day after day, she ended with her beloved overture,
playing it over, not so much to perfect herself in it, as to remind
herself that music was a living, vital means of expression quite within
the reach of one not so much older than herself. It was not that Cicely
ever hoped to compose. That was as far beyond her ambition as it was
beyond her powers. She only gained courage from the thought that success
in one's chosen line was not always deferred until the end of life.
Moreover, she felt a certain human and girlish satisfaction in being able
to state that, once at least, she had swept the gifted composer of the
_Alan Breck Overture_ completely off his feet. The fact was enough; no
need to enter into details.
Theodora and Billy never stopped to analyze how large a hold upon their
hearts this healthy, happy girl had taken. If she dined at The Savins,
they devoured their own meal in silence. If she spent an evening away
from home Billy read his paper with one eye on the clock, and Theodora
reduced Melchisedek to whimpering frenzy by asking once in ten minutes
where his missy was. They wanted her chatter, wanted her more gentle
moments, wanted above all else her pranks which served as a sort of
vicarious outlet for their own animal spirits. For nine days out of ten,
Cicely and Melchisedek frisked through life together.
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