The Music Master Part 26

Von Barwig's trained musical ear caught the melody in a moment.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked quickly.

"At your house," she answered, "the night I brought Danny to you. I have a very keen ear for music," she added.

"You gave me quite a start," he said. "It is my symphony, my dead and buried work. To hear that music from you was startling." There was a pause. "Do you know the ba.s.s part?" he asked.

She closed the piano quickly with a bang. "What do you think of Danny?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"What a curious girl!" thought Von Barwig, and then he said aloud, "The boy has possibilities, and so have you," he added.

Helene laughed. "It's a shame to deceive him," she thought.

"Herr Von Barwig," she began, "I want to be serious a moment. I'm afraid I've been guilty of a little--what shall I call it?

Indiscretion? No, deception; that's better. I have deceived you--"

She paused; the look of deep consternation on Von Barwig's face arrested her. "What's the matter?" she asked.

The old man gazed at her. "I don't know," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat "The fear that something had happened to prevent the--continuation--of--I am so happy here--I--" He apparently was unable to explain his meaning, for he stopped short.

"Go on," she said.

Von Barwig shook his head. "You look so serious," he said after a pause. "I thought perhaps something had happened to prevent my coming here, and the thought made me very unhappy. I am a foolish old man, eh? But, I am so happy here, so happy! I try to explain," he said.

"Everything I have had in this world, everything I love I have lost! I am afraid to love anything for fear that I shall lose it. That's superst.i.tion, is it not? You tell me you have deceived me, and immediately I think she is going to tell me that she will no longer deceive me, that she does not like me for a music master! I know," he added plaintively, "that I am foolish. But my life here since I have been in this country has made of me a coward. Forgive me; please forgive me!"

The girl's eyes filled with tears. "No, no!" she said gently. "You need not fear. I shall never want any other music master but you, never!"

Chapter Seventeen

Pinac and Fico noticed it and so did Miss Husted. Poons probably would have noticed it, too, if he had not been in love. But Jenny was the only one who really felt the change in Professor Von Barwig. Try as he would, the old man could not conceal from them the fact that "something had happened." Not that he was not just as affable to Miss Husted as ever, not that he was any less warm in his manner toward his friends, but there was something missing and Jenny was the only one who came anywhere near guessing the truth. "He has found some one whom he loves more than us," thought she, and she felt glad at heart for his sake; though she did not understand.

"He feels so bad with himself that we have lost our engagement through him that he cannot come over it," said Fico in answer to Pinac's query as to what was the matter with Von Barwig. They knew there was no chance now of their getting the symphony engagement, for Van Praag, hampered by creditors, unable to carry out his contracts owing to the strike, had gone into bankruptcy and retired from the venture with the loss of all his money. He wrote a letter to Von Barwig saying he was going back to Germany, where musical art was one thing and bricks another. Von Barwig sadly showed them the letter, but his mind was so taken up with his new pupil that he did not feel the loss of the engagement as they did.

And yet his financial position was daily growing worse and worse, for he had practically no pupils at all--that is, no paying pupils.

Besides this, the weather was so cold and business had dropped off to such an extent at the Museum that Costello had been compelled to reduce Von Barwig's salary fifty per cent. "A half a loaf is better than none," he had told the night professor as he handed him his envelope with half salary in it; so Von Barwig had been compelled to take what he could get. He now seriously considered moving upstairs.

"We haven't a room vacant," said Miss Husted in a decided tone; "and if we had," tenderly, "no, professor, no top floor for you! I couldn't bear the idea of it; I couldn't really! Pay me when you get it," she said when the old man pleaded that he must live within his means.

"But I may never get it," expostulated the professor.

"Oh, yes, you will," confidently replied Miss Husted. "Mrs. Mangenborn says it is in the cards that great fortune is coming to you."

"In the next world, perhaps," said Von Barwig, laughing in spite of himself.

"Besides," went on Miss Husted, "it doesn't matter one way or the other. I could never bear the idea. Stay here for my sake," she pleaded when she saw that the professor was obstinate; and so he remained in his old rooms, though he squeezed every penny in order to pay her.

On the afternoon following his interview with his father, Beverly Cruger made up his mind to speak to Helene, to ask her to be his wife.

He called at her home, and was informed by Joles that she was engaged; that a German gentleman was giving her music instruction, and that her orders were that she was not to be disturbed. Beverly left his card, intending to call the next day, but the fates were against him, and he was sent for by the State Department in regard to his diplomatic position and had to go to Washington. On his return to New York a week later, he again called on Miss Stanton. To his astonishment and, it must be confessed, to his extreme annoyance, he found Miss Stanton again "engaged." Herr Von Barwig, her music master, was there.

"Please take up my card, Joles, and tell Miss Stanton that I wish to see her on a matter of the utmost importance--the utmost importance,"

repeated Beverly.

"Yes, sir," replied Joles.

"Herr Von Barwig appears to be _persona gratissima_," thought Beverly, and then it occurred to him that it was very strange that an accomplished musician like Helene Stanton should take music lessons.

"He must be a very superior sort of a musical personage, very superior indeed." Beverly would not acknowledge even to himself that he resented Herr Von Barwig's presence at the Stantons'. "How can our American women be so deceived by the artificial deference, the insincere, highly polished politeness of these foreigners!" he mused.

"Von Barwig is probably an offshoot of some n.o.ble German house, but she's not apt to be attracted by an empty t.i.tle!" He had loved her for months, he told himself, and each time he had made up his mind to speak this foreigner had been the means of preventing him.

"Send him up please, Joles. I want you to meet Mr. Cruger, Herr Von Barwig," said Helene as she glanced at the card Joles handed her, and rose from the piano where she was taking a lesson. "I haven't seen him for days and days; I wondered what had become of him."

Von Barwig noticed the heightened colour in Miss Stanton's cheeks and he made a mental note that he must like Mr. Beverly Cruger, too, yet, if the truth must be known, he felt a pang of regret. "She loves him,"

he said to himself, "she will forget me."

"Shall we not continue the lesson?" he said aloud.

Helene shook her head. "No more to-day," she said.

"Then Miss Stanton will perhaps pardon my leaving," said Von Barwig.

"On the contrary, Herr Professor, Miss Stanton insists on your remaining," said Helene, motioning him to a seat. Von Barwig bowed deferentially.

"You have disappointed me to-day," he said. "Ach, your tempos change--like the winds! At one moment it is 6-8, the next 2-4, and almost in the same measure, you play 4-4. At one moment you play with your thumbs, like a little girl; at another, you play like a professional, an artist. I cannot understand it. Technically I don't know where you are. I am puzzled! I admit it; I am puzzled," and he looked at her in perplexed uncertainty.

Helene's only answer was a ripple of laughter. She was beginning to enjoy her own cleverness in deceiving him, and his confusion endeared him to her more than ever. The greater his perplexity the more she sympathised with him.

"Poor old gentleman," she thought, "It is downright wicked of me to deceive him. But what can I do? If I let him know I don't need his services he will not come."

"I have made up my mind to bring you some simple exercises for our next lesson, Miss Stanton. No more Bach and unevenly played Beethoven!"

said Von Barwig. "It is necessary that we begin at the beginning and work up. That's it! We begin all over again, at the very beginning, and work up to the top. Then you will have some style, some form, some technique that you can call your own."

"Oh, dear, you're not going to make me play exercises, are you? Oh, Herr Von Barwig, dear Herr Von Barwig, please don't!" said Helene, with such a pleading accent that Von Barwig was compelled to smile.

"It just serves me right," she thought. "I shall literally have to face the music," she said to herself with a laugh.

Beverly Cruger heard that laugh as he came into the room, and he made up his mind that Herr Von Barwig was one of those highly entertaining foreigners who appeal to the feminine mind with their superficial brilliancy and capture all before them.

"Herr Von Barwig, this is Mr. Beverly Cruger," broke in Helene, and Mr.

Cruger was formally introduced to his rival.

Beverly could hardly repress a smile as his eyes fell on the slim figure of the poor, grey-headed, homely old artist. Was this the n.o.ble young foreigner, the handsome German music master he had pictured to himself? Was this Helene's romance?

"Gott in Himmel, what a squeeze he gives the hand!" thought Von Barwig, as he tried to release his injured digits from the vice that held them.

"I am so glad to see you, Herr Von Barwig," said Beverly; and he meant it.

"Yes, and I, too," groaned Von Barwig as he rubbed his fingers. "A fine fellow," he thought. "Such a welcome as that must come from the heart. But ach Gott, what a muscle! It's like iron!"