CHAPTER X.

VISIT AT MRS. N.'S.

MRS. N.

_Her daughter_ FATIMA, _eighteen years old_.

AN AUNT.

DOMINIE.

_Towards the end of the evening, the piano-teacher_, MR. FEEBLE.

DOMINIE (_rather anxiously to Fatima_). Will you do me the favor, Miss,

to play something on the piano? Your aunt has told me a great deal about

your playing.

FATIMA (_smiling graciously_). But, really, the piano is out of

tune,--so my teacher says.

DOMINIE. But does not your teacher attend to having your piano always

kept in tune?

FATIMA. Mamma says it is too expensive to have it tuned so often; it

gets out of tune again so quickly. It is an old, small-legged piano, as

you see: mamma is always saying, when I am older I shall have a

Chickering. The tuner comes regularly once in three months; the time is

not yet up.

DOMINIE. But is your teacher satisfied with the tuning of your piano?

FATIMA. Well, he has got used to it. It is the same with the other

instruments he teaches on.

MRS. N. Now, pet, play us something. Mr. Dominie likes music; he is a

judge of it; his daughters play too.

FATIMA. But what shall I play, mamma?

MRS. N. You have got heaps of notes there. Mr. Dominie, pray select

something.

DOMINIE. But I don't know which pieces Miss Fatima can master, and which

she has now at her fingers' ends.

AUNT. Pray, Mr. Dominie, choose any thing. They are all fine pieces. It

makes no difference to her which she plays.

DOMINIE. But do you play that whole heap?

AUNT. She has played it all. She has played ever since she was ten years

old, and she has a very good teacher. He taught here when my sister used

to accompany her lover's solos on the flute. Oh, those were charming

musical evenings! And the teacher often played the guitar with them

_extempore_. It was just like a concert.

DOMINIE. Indeed! that must have been very fine. Now, Miss, I beg--

FATIMA. But, mamma, just say what I shall play.

DOMINIE. Is not your teacher here this evening? He will know best.

AUNT (_whispers to Dominie_). He is busy this evening, composing some

grand bravoura variations, which are to be dedicated to Fatima on her

eighteenth birthday, the day after to-morrow. You must come to see us on

that day. Fatima will play them at sight.

MRS. N. Fatima, don't hold back any longer. Play "The Huguenots" by

Thalberg: that's a very fine piece.

DOMINIE. Pray do! I have not heard it since I heard Thalberg play it.

AUNT (_to Dominie_). Don't you make your daughters play it then? Oh,

that magnificent choral! That brings tears to my eyes! But the dear

child always takes it too fast: her fingers run away with her.

MRS. N. Here it is. Please turn round so that you can see her hands, Mr.

Dominie. You are such a famous teacher, perhaps you can make some

suggestions. (_I was expected only to admire._)

DOMINIE. I don't like to disturb her freedom in playing; but I will turn

round, if you say so.

(_Fatima scurries through the piece excitedly, and plays in a bold

way,--not, however, without ability, but with a feeble touch,

without proper fingering, without tone, without time; and gets over

the first two pages, with her foot always on the pedal, in such a

senseless, indistinct manner that Dominie, in despair, was forced

to interrupt with the remark, "But you might take the _tempo_ a

little more quietly."_)

(_Fatima leans back amazed, and stops playing, looking at her

mother with a contemptuous expression._)

AUNT. It is owing to her great execution, and then, too, her youthful

enthusiasm. Don't you like her natural expression?

FATIMA. My teacher always makes me play it so. It is in that way that I

have learned to play so much at sight.

DOMINIE. But don't you study your pieces?

FATIMA. For the last four years I have played only at sight, so that now

I can get on anywhere in the musical clubs. That is what mamma likes.

DOMINIE. But do you not play any scales and études? do you not practise

any exercises?

AUNT. She has not done those things for the last four years. My sister

thinks it is rather a hindrance, and is too pedantic. Her teacher

thinks so too, and he teaches her the fine concert pieces of Döhler,

Liszt, Dreyschock, Willmer, and Thalberg. She learns execution by these.

She has gone through all Thalberg's music; and we have sent to Leipzig

for Willmer's "Pompa di Festa."

DOMINIE. All this shows great enthusiasm, but really a little too much

hot haste.

(_Dominie wishes to continue the conversation, in order to escape

the unpleasant necessity of "turning round to the piano."_)

MRS. N. (_interrupts_). My child, just begin again at the beginning, and

let us enjoy the whole of "The Huguenots." Mr. Dominie likes it.

(_Fatima consents, and hurries through the whole Potpourri with a

confident, conceited air, to the great despair of Dominie. At the

choral, the aunt taps him on the shoulder, and whispers._)

AUNT. Is not that touching? It is a little too fast, you will agree; but

then the execution! Has not the girl a great deal of talent? Just hear!

* * * * *

But what did Dominie say after the performance was over? He only bowed

stiffly, and what he said to himself will always remain a secret. He

only _felt_.

They go in to supper. All who submitted to hearing the daughter perform

on the badly tuned piano, which was at least a tone and a half too low,

were invited to supper and handsomely treated. The wine was better than

the piano. Presently the teacher, Mr. Feeble, having finished his

birthday bravoura composition, appeared and was introduced. Fatima

whispered to him, giggling, "I played the whole of 'The Huguenots;' it

went splendidly." Mr. Feeble simpered. Dominie and he talked together,

unheard, at the end of the table.

* * * * *

DOMINIE. The young lady has talent, Mr. Feeble.

MR. FEEBLE. Indeed she has!

DOMINIE. How is it, Mr. Feeble, that she does not combine serious

studies with her playing?

MR. FEEBLE. Oh! I used to make her play exercises by A.E. Mueller, and

some Etudes of Czerny's, and sometimes a few scales. But the child was

so volatile, and had so little perseverance, and was so quick at

learning every thing! And then her mother wanted her to play modern

pieces for parties, and we had to busy ourselves with those. But our

method has borne good fruit, as you can see. Is not it so?

DOMINIE. Do you not think, with firmness and decision, you could have

set Mrs. N. on the right track? Could not you cultivate the mechanical

powers of your pupil, and combine an understanding of the musical

construction of the piece, with her "playing at sight"? The young lady,

not to speak of other faults, has no tone on the piano.

MR. FEEBLE. She can use the pedal for that, and, when she is older, she

will acquire more strength; her touch is a little too weak at present.

And, besides, she is not to play in public for money, but only in

company, and because it is the fashion. Indeed, my dear sir, if I

insisted on scales and exercises, I should have very few lessons in this

city. I have a wife and children to support, and my old father, the

former organist, is dependent upon me. You can do all this with your own

children; but think how much time it requires to _study_ the music!

(_The company bid each other "good-night."_)

FATIMA (_flippantly to Dominie_). I believe your daughter Emma is a very

good player; but they say she has not so much talent as your eldest

daughter.

DOMINIE. Indeed! who told you that?

Piano and song · 第 10 / 15 章