STUPID FACES
everything, it seems to me. The people I have to play accompaniments for are discouraging. The professionals, like Katharine Priest and Miles Murdstone, are worst of all. If I have to play 'The Messiah' much longer for Mrs. Priest, I 'll go out of my mind!" Thea brought her foot down sharply on the bare floor.
Mrs. Harsanyi looked down at the foot in perplexity. "You must n't wear such high heels, my dear. They will spoil your walk and make you mince along. Can't you at least learn to avoid what you dislike in these singers? I was never able to care for Mrs. Priest's singing."
Thea was sitting with her chin lowered. Without moving her head she looked up at Mrs. Harsanyi and smiled; a smile much too cold and desperate to be seen on a young face, Mrs. Harsanyi felt. "Mrs. Harsanyi, it seems to me that what I learn is just to dislike. I dislike so much and so hard that it tires me out. I 've got no heart for anything." She threw up her head suddenly and sat in defiance, her hand clenched on the arm of the chair. "Mr. Harsanyi could n't stand these people an hour, I know he could n't. He 'd put them right out of the window there, frizzes and feathers and all. Now, take that new soprano they 're all making such a fuss about, Jessie Darcey. She 's going on tour with a symphony orchestra and she 's working up her repertory with Bowers. She 's singing some Schumann songs Mr. Harsanyi used to go over with me. Well, I don't know what he would do if he heard her."
"But if your own work goes well, and you know these people are wrong, why do you let them discourage you?"
Thea shook her head. "That 's just what I don t understand myself. Only, after I 've heard them all afternoon, I come out frozen up. Somehow it takes the shine off of everything. People want Jessie Darcey and the kind of thing she does; so what 's the use?"
Mrs. Harsanyi smiled. "That stile you must simply vault over. You must not begin to fret about the suc-
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