Catching my eye in the mirror, Mrs. Armiger said, "Your mother tells me you've...

Catching my eye in the mirror, Mrs. Armiger said, "Your mother tells me you've forgotten how to play the parlor organ, Andrew."
I began to apologize, but Mrs. Armiger hushed me. "It's all right, dear. I understand." She paused to adjust her hat. "In the fall, we shall begin your lessons again. We'll get along famously this time, won't we?"
Not daring to meet Theo's eyes, I said, "Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Armiger smiled at Mama. "I can't believe he's the same boy. Do you suppose some other child put that glue in my metronome after all? Surely it wasn't this dear angel who drew a mustache on my bust of Beethoven. Nor could he have been the rascal who climbed out my window on recital day and hid in a tree."
She squeezed my shoulder just hard enough to hurt. "No, no, no--not this sweet little fellow. It must have been some naughty boy who looked just like him."
After she and Mama shared a chuckle, Mrs. Armiger hugged me. "I believe I can make a perfect gentleman out of this child."
When Theo heard hat, the laughter he'd been struggling to control exploded in a series of loud snorts. He tried to pretend he was choking on his phosphate, but he didn't fool Mama.
"Music lessons are exactly what Theodore needs," she told Mrs. Armiger. "The discipline will do him good. Suppose I sent both boys to you every Wednesday afternoon?"
While Mrs. Armiger and Mama made plans, I stirred the chocolate sauce into my ice cream, appetite gone. Beside me, Theo seethed. He was blaming everything on me--the scolding, the music lessons, Mrs. Armiger. It was all my fault. He hated me.