"But such dancing! She is a will-o'-the-wisp, a pixie, a thistledown, a butterfly!" "All those and more," said Sam Blaney.

"She is a velvet angel, a rose-coloured leaf in the wind, a fluttering scarf end." "What imagery!" murmured somebody, and some one else said, "Inspiration!" in an awed tone.
"And now to work," urged Alla.

"We must plan for our holiday party.
Shall we have it here ?" "Here, of course," she was answered.
"But others of you have larger homes, more pretentious dwellings----" "But not the atmosphere.

This Studio,--" it was a large-eyed young musician talking, "this hallowed room has more elevating tendency,--more inspiring atmosphere than any other.

Let us meet here by all means, and let us have such a program--such a feast of glories as never before." Then another man spoke.