by appointment, bringing with her Dorothy and a roll of music. Madame Schneider permitted the callers to wait for a short interval before answering their ring, and led them into the anteroom.
Dorothy’s first glimpse of Madame Schneider confirmed her preconceived judgment that Michel Soedlich would be the logical teacher. This woman looked hopelessly uninteresting. There had to be romance in an artist’s background, and Madame Schneider was too much like a virtuous seamstress to be romantic.
“Wouldn’t it be cozier,”” Madame Schneider said as soon as her visitors were seated, “if we went into the studio?”
She opened the sliding door between the rooms and waited for Mrs. Loamford and Dorothy to enter. She bowed them into the two chairs and sat on the piano stool.
“This, I take it, is your daughter,” she began.
Dorothy repressed a squirming movement. Madame Schneider was trying to appear important. She spoke of Dorothy as she might speak of a small and undernourished baby. Soedlich might have regarded her at least as one who had something in common with him.
“I believe I talked to you about Dorothy over the phone the other day,” said Mrs. Loamford. “I should be very glad to have you hear her voice.”
“Have you ever had lessons, Miss Loamford?” inquired Madame Schneider.
“My daughter has not,” answered Mrs. Loamford. believe that she has an unusual natural voice.”
Madame Schneider waved amiably at Dorothy.
“And,” Mrs. Loamford continued, "I have brought some of her music-"
"Permit me to test her voice," interrupted Madame Schneider.
[38]
