"Couldn't I teach them, mother?" I asked, anxiously.
They all laughed at me as if I had said something foolish.
It was evident that I should never get rid of Madame Tomaso. She would
come year after year, forever and ever, until I and the twins were quite
grown up. The twins were little and easily frightened. She would make
them cry. I knew that she would. Sometimes, although I was such a big
girl, she almost made me cry, when she beat time and shouted, for she
was beginning to shout. And that last scene, though I had been
victorious, had rankled. I felt that my mother would be highly indignant
if I told her, but somehow I could not tell her. There did not seem to
be any way out. I looked at the piano cover, and thought and thought.
"Granddad," I inquired next day, "what became of Polly?"
"Oh, Polly left," he answered.
"Right away, granddad?" I demanded, eagerly.
"Just as soon as she could get her trunk packed. Why?"