The Argosy — page 387: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Lost Harmony. 373 a wild, vague fancy that it would be worse than death to me to be one among a crowd of listeners to those wonderful tones which stirred me so terribly even in our own silent rooms at home, and to see the © applause and adulation of thousands laid at his feet where my own had laid so long unnoticed. | All the attention and interest which I was ready to give after that last resolution of mine, he took most easily, and without comment; and even when I tried a little jesting and coquetting, just to tease and arouse him to retaliate, he generally only smiled down upon me, or spoke coolly of things far removed from the subjects on which I jested. Once, in the middle of a neat little provocation of mine, he rose and began to pace slowly up and down the room, his arms folded behind him and his head bent. I thought he was musing on what I had said, and would at last begin to tease me in return ; but a few minutes after- wards he sat down and played an overture which 1s now of world-wide celebrity and introduces his first opera. The summer days went on very slowly for me, filled with unspeak- able anxiety, yet with a dangerous, treacherous happiness. My heart was light by nature (as perhaps all hearts must be which are so easily won) and therefore hope clung to me through all my disappointments and mortifications. Something would surely move this dreamy, con. centrated soul of Heinrich’s. One morning as I stood in his room, looking round upon his favourite books and instruments and music, a new resolution formed itself in my mind: I would study for a time, and show him how possible it was even for me to appreciate the studies he loved. I began at once to practise the music I had so long neglected. I worked indefatigably and ceaselessly at it ; and, besides that, I slowly and studiously read the books of which I had oftenest heard him speak. Aunt Anna never interrupted me in these studies ; indeed, she always contrived to make them easier for me, and at last came the night on which I meant to surprise Heinrich by my performance of a symphony of his own. It was a beautiful calm summer night, and Heinrich and I had been sitting apart at the two open windows, look- ing out upon the motionless leaves, and never speaking. Quietly at last I left my seat and went to the piano, determined not to look back at Heinrich, yet longing intensely to see if he were surprised. My fingers trembled so when I laid them on the keys that I had to wait and gather strength and courage as I could ; then at last, in the utter silence, and seeing more distinctly than my notes the quiet figure at the open window, I began. I have no memory now of those minutes through which I played. The room whirled round me and my fingers lost their strength, while still I could play the notes I had learned, but whose soul I could not reach, then or ever. What I first remember is Herr Heinrich standing above me, his eyes full of pained surprise. COMRCMOOOKS (CO)