REAL MUSIC
Guard mount was over, and the Barlows with their guest were on their
way back to their cottage. Gretel had enjoyed the morning very much.
The soldiers, the bright music, and the crowds of people, had all
combined to make the hour of guard mount a most delightful occasion.
Then, too, she was beginning to find her new friends very entertaining.
Geraldine chatted away incessantly, and Jerry, although much less
talkative than his twin, was so amusing that Gretel had found herself
laughing almost every time he opened his lips. Mr. and Mrs. Barlow had
soon been joined by some acquaintances, and after that the children
had been left pretty much to their own devices. Mr. Barlow kept a
watchful eye upon the twins, but his wife became so much interested in
her conversation with a friend, that she appeared to forget all about
everything else. Gretel caught snatches of this conversation, in which
the words “Montessori System”--“Law of Love” and “Wonderful Spiritual
Experience” were frequently repeated.
It was when they were walking home from the fort that Geraldine
suddenly remarked in a tone of regret--
“The parade was nice, wasn’t it? I’m rather sorry we wouldn’t let Miss
Heath come.”
“Who is Miss Heath?” Gretel inquired with interest.
“She’s our teacher. Mother said we lost so much time having scarlet
fever that we must have lessons down here, so she brought an old
teacher along.”
“She isn’t old,” declared Jerry, in his hoarse little voice; “she’s
real pretty, and I wanted you to let her come, but you said it was
against rules.”
“Well, so it was,” maintained his sister. “You see,” she added, by way
of explanation to Gretel, “when Mother said we had to take a teacher
with us, we made an awful row. We said it wasn’t fair to have to study
when we weren’t in New York, so at last Mother made a compromise. She
said if we promised to study for two hours every day, we could have all
the rest of the time to ourselves. We needn’t even see the old teacher
if we didn’t want to, and she wasn’t to interfere in anything we did.
So when Miss Heath came, we explained things to her, and made her sign
a paper we wrote out.”
“Did she mind?” Gretel asked. She was thinking that Miss Talcott might
have rather enjoyed such an arrangement.
“No; I don’t think so; she laughed a good deal, and said we were funny
kiddies. She told Mother she would be glad of the extra time, because
she wanted to study her music. She offered to give us music lessons,
but that was something we wouldn’t stand. Arithmetic and history are
bad enough, but music! Oh, my goodness!”
“Don’t you love music?” inquired Gretel in astonishment.
“Not much, at least not the kind Miss Heath plays. I like the music at
dancing-school pretty well, but Mother’s crazy about Miss Heath’s kind.
She’s always getting her to play the piano in the evenings, and Father
listens, too, but he almost always goes to sleep. Miss Heath wants to
play in concerts, and Mother’s going to try to get her an engagement
when we go back to New York.”
“My father played in concerts,” said Gretel, eagerly. “He was a great
musician, Hermann Schiller--did you ever hear him play?”
Geraldine was forced to admit that she had not, but added politely
that perhaps Mother had, and just then they reached the cottage Mr.
Barlow had taken for the season. Mr. and Mrs. Barlow were on their way
to call on some friends, so the children went into the house alone.
“There’s Miss Heath playing now,” remarked Geraldine, as they mounted
the piazza steps, and the sound of a distant piano fell upon their
ears. “She always plays when she’s by herself. I don’t believe she
really minded about our not letting her go to the fort.”
“It was all your fault,” declared Jerry; “I was perfectly willing to
have her come along.”
Geraldine looked a little ashamed.
“Well, if we’d given in to her in one thing, it might have made trouble
afterwards,” she maintained stoutly. “We said in that paper that she
wasn’t to come near us except at lessons, and she agreed to it. Come up
to my room, Gretel; you can take off your things there.”
But greatly to Geraldine’s surprise, her new friend had suddenly
appeared to lose all interest in her society. As the front door opened,
and the sound of the piano became more distinct, she had given one
little start, and was now standing quite still, with clasped hands, and
parted lips, while her cheeks grew pink, and her eyes began to shine
in a way that seemed to the twins quite startling.
“It’s one of Father’s pieces,” she whispered rapturously--“one he
wrote himself, I mean. Oh, how wonderful!” And then, as if forgetful
of everything else in the world, she darted forward, and fairly flew
across the hall to the parlor, followed by her two wondering companions.
A young lady was seated at the piano; a very pretty young lady, with
dimples, and soft light hair, that fell in little curls over her
forehead. At the entrance of the children, she paused in her playing,
and turned to greet them with a smile. But before she could speak, or
the twins offer any explanation, Gretel had sprung to the strange young
lady’s side, and laid a trembling little hand on her arm.
“Oh, don’t stop, please don’t!” she cried imploringly; “it’s Father’s
sonata, and you were playing it so beautifully. I love all Father’s
things so, and I haven’t heard any of them since--since--” A big sob
finished the sentence.
“Why, my dear little girl,” exclaimed Miss Heath, her face changing
from amusement to real sympathy; “what is the matter--what does this
all mean, children?”
[Illustration: “OH, DON’T STOP; PLEASE DON’T!”--_Page 146._]
The twins shook their heads helplessly, and stared at their visitor in
blank amazement.
“There isn’t anything the matter,” faltered Gretel, “only you were
playing Father’s sonata, and I was so glad to hear it. I couldn’t help
getting excited. Please excuse me; I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Barbara Heath’s only answer was to slip an arm round the little
trembling figure.
“Who is this little girl?” she inquired of the twins.
“Her name is Gretel Schiller,” Geraldine explained. “Father and Mother
know her brother, and she’s going to spend the day. We’re going
up-stairs now; come along, Gretel.”
But Gretel did not move.
“Gretel Schiller,” repeated Miss Heath. “Why, can it be possible that
your father was Hermann Schiller?” And she glanced at the sheet of
music before her on the piano.
“Yes, he was,” said Gretel, proudly. “Oh, would you mind finishing the
sonata? I want to hear it so very much.”
“Of course I will,” said Miss Heath, kindly. “I am very fond of
it myself, but I am afraid I may not do it justice; it is rather
difficult, and I haven’t had much time for practicing lately.”
“Oh, yes, you will,” protested Gretel. “You were playing it just the
way Father did. I haven’t heard any one play the piano like that since
he died. May I stay here for a little while, Geraldine? I want so much
to hear the lady play?”
“You can stay if you want to,” answered Geraldine, who was beginning
to look rather disgusted at this sudden turn of affairs, “but she’s
Miss Heath, our teacher, and we don’t have to stay with her except at
lessons. Jerry and I are going up-stairs, and you can come when you get
ready.” And Geraldine departed, followed by her brother.
Then followed an hour of such bliss as Gretel had not known since
her father’s death more than a year before. Miss Heath was really an
accomplished musician, and what was more, she loved music just as much
as Gretel did. It was a real delight to play to any one who seemed to
enjoy it as did this odd little brown-eyed girl, who nestled close to
her side, and seemed to drink in every note with actual rapture. She
finished the sonata, and after playing several other beautiful things,
she asked the child kind, interested questions, all of which Gretel
answered readily. Miss Heath knew all about Hermann Schiller, and had
even heard him play several times, and she caused Gretel’s proud little
heart to swell by her praises of her father’s talent. Indeed, Gretel
was completely fascinated by the pretty young lady, and it seemed to
her quite inconceivable that Jerry and Geraldine could regard Miss
Heath as a rather tiresome addition to the party, whose society was to
be dispensed with on every possible occasion.
At last Miss Heath suggested that it might be well for Gretel to rejoin
her friends.
“I can’t join them myself,” she added, laughing, “because I am under
contract to appear only at lesson hours. They are a funny little pair,
but I am sure you will like them.”
Gretel would have preferred remaining where she was, but feared it
might not be polite to leave the twins for too long, so she rose
reluctantly.
“Thank you so much for playing,” she said in her sweet, courteous
little voice; “I didn’t know I should ever hear any one play the piano
like that again.”
“I will play for you as often as you like,” promised Miss Heath, who
was pleased as well as touched by the simple compliment. “Do you expect
to be at Old Point long?”
Gretel said that she was staying at the hotel with her brother, and
that he was attending to some business in the neighborhood. She was not
sure how long they would remain, but thought it would be several weeks.
“Then you must come to see me often,” said Miss Heath. “I haven’t very
much to do, as the children object to my society out of lesson hours.
Now come and I will show you the way up-stairs; Jerry and Geraldine
will think you have forsaken them.”
Gretel found the twins deep in an animated discussion; Geraldine
perched on the foot of her bed; Jerry standing in the middle of the
floor, his face very red, and both hands thrust deep into his pockets.
“Here comes Gretel,” exclaimed Geraldine, as the visitor entered the
room; “shall we let her settle it?”
“Not if she won’t settle it the right way,” returned Jerry, firmly. “I
say it’s mean not to let her go.”
“What is it?” Gretel inquired, glancing from one solemn little face to
the other.
“It’s about this afternoon,” said Geraldine; “Father has promised to
take us to the navy yard at Newport News, and Jerry thinks we ought to
let Miss Heath go, too.”
“Why, yes, of course you ought,” declared Gretel, with so much decision
that Jerry gave vent to his satisfaction by an eager “Good for you,”
and favored his new friend with a friendly smile.
But Geraldine was not so easily convinced.
“It isn’t in the contract,” she objected; “the contract says she is
only to be with us at lessons, and to-day is Saturday.”
“Bother the old contract!” retorted Jerry. “I say it’s mean to leave
her by herself all the time, with nothing to do but read books and play
on the old piano. If she isn’t to go I won’t go either; so there!”
Geraldine was troubled; she was very fond of her twin, but a bargain
was a bargain.
“I know how we’ll settle it,” she exclaimed, with a sudden inspiration;
“we’ll draw lots. I’ll get two pieces of paper, a long one and a short
one, and you can draw. The long one means she goes, the short one she
doesn’t. But if she does go she’s got to promise not to say a word
about history or any other teaching thing all the afternoon.”
Jerry consented to this arrangement, and Gretel looked on with
considerable interest while the papers were produced, and Miss Heath’s
fate decided. Geraldine held the two pieces of paper in her hand, and
her brother shut his eyes tight before drawing. There was a moment of
breathless excitement, followed by a shout of triumph from Jerry; he
had drawn the long piece.
Jerry rushed off to tell Miss Heath the good news that she was to be
permitted to share their society for the afternoon, and Geraldine
showed Gretel her dolls, and a few other treasures, which she had
brought from New York, over which the two little girls soon became very
good friends. Then Mr. and Mrs. Barlow came home, and the whole party
went over to the hotel to luncheon.
The twins talked a great deal at the luncheon table, and expressed
their likes and dislikes on so many subjects, that Gretel could not
help wondering why their parents did not reprove them occasionally,
but Mr. and Mrs. Barlow did not appear to notice, and as for pretty
Miss Heath, she was so bright and merry, and laughed so much at the
children’s remarks, that Gretel could not imagine why they should not
find her a most delightful companion. Every one was very kind to the
little visitor, and Mrs. Barlow asked her to accompany the party to the
navy yard.
“Miss Heath is going, too,” announced Jerry, with his mouth full of
ice-cream.
Mrs. Barlow looked a little surprised, but not at all displeased.
“Yes, I am really to be permitted to join the party,” said Miss Heath,
laughing; “I believe the question was settled by the drawing of lots.”
“But there’s a condition,” put in Geraldine, gravely; “she isn’t
to mention any teaching things like history or geography all the
afternoon. She’s just to be an ordinary lady, not a teacher.” At which
remark Miss Heath laughed more than ever, and Mr. and Mrs. Barlow also
seemed much amused.
So, shortly after luncheon the party, consisting of Mr. Barlow, Miss
Heath and the three children, started for Newport News. Mrs. Barlow had
an engagement with friends at the hotel, but before they started she
kissed both twins, and delivered quite a long lecture to them, on the
subject of improving their opportunities.
“This visit to the navy yard is a great privilege for my little boy
and girl,” she ended, “and I shall expect them both to appreciate it,
and to remember all they see and hear. Mother will want to be told all
about it this evening.”
Jerry looked rather bored, and Geraldine fidgeted impatiently from one
foot to the other, but just then their father called them, and they
were off like a shot, without even taking the time to answer.
“Your mother likes to hear about everything you do, doesn’t she?”
remarked Gretel a little wistfully to Geraldine, as they were on their
way to the trolley car. “My father was like that, too; I always told
him about everything.”
“Mother doesn’t really care very much,” answered Geraldine,
indifferently; “she gets most of those ideas out of books. She never
used to bother so much; it’s only since she’s been going to those
lectures. We like her much better this way, though. She used to be
always worrying for fear we would take cold or eat something that would
disagree with us.”
Gretel enjoyed the afternoon immensely. The ride in the car, which at
times went almost as fast as an automobile; the visit to the navy yard,
where they were allowed to go aboard a battle-ship; and the pleasant
society of her companions. Before the excursion was over she had become
quite attached to Jerry and Geraldine, and was sure Miss Heath must be
one of the most delightful young ladies in the world. The twins were so
fascinated with the battle-ship, that their father had some difficulty
in tearing them away.
“I think to live on a boat must be the loveliest thing in the world,”
declared Geraldine, when they were at last leaving the big ship.
“You will have a chance to try if we go abroad next year,” her father
told her. But Geraldine did not look quite satisfied.
“Next year is such a long time off,” she objected, “and perhaps we
won’t even go then.”
“I’m going sometime, anyhow,” announced Jerry in a tone of settled
conviction, and then the subject was dropped.
The car going back to Old Point was so crowded that it was impossible
for the whole party to sit together. Mr. Barlow took the twins out on
the front platform, and Gretel, much to her delight, found herself
alone with Miss Heath.
“Do you think I have behaved myself well enough to be invited again?”
the young lady asked, smiling, as the car started. “I haven’t mentioned
any ‘teaching things,’ have I?”
“No, indeed you haven’t,” returned Gretel, laughing, “but I wish you
would talk a little about ‘teaching things’ to me--that is if you like
talking about them. You see, I’m dreadfully behind with my lessons, and
I haven’t had any since January. My brother says he is going to send
me to school next year, but he’s afraid it’s a little late to begin
this season.”
Miss Heath looked interested, and by dint of a few kindly questions,
had soon learned all Gretel’s simple story.
“It has been so beautiful ever since my brother came home, that I feel
as if I must be living in a fairy story,” finished the little girl,
“but I’m afraid if I don’t begin to learn something soon, he may be
ashamed of me. I’m even forgetting my German.”
“I will speak German with you if you like,” said Miss Heath. “I studied
music for several years in Germany, and used to speak the language
fairly well.” And she added a few words in German, which caused
Gretel’s eyes to sparkle with delight.
“You speak it beautifully!” she cried joyfully. “Oh, I am so glad.
Nobody has spoken German to me in such a long time, and I love it so,
because it was Father’s language. I wish my brother spoke it, but he
says he doesn’t know a word.”
Miss Heath looked rather surprised, but seeing the tears in Gretel’s
eyes, she refrained from asking any more questions.
“I, too, had a dear father, whom I loved very much,” she said. “He
only left me last year, and I have missed him terribly.”
Gretel glanced at her new friend’s black dress, and instinctively
nestled a little closer to her.
“You know all about it, then,” she said, softly.
“Yes, dear, I know all about it.”
“But I haven’t been so lonely since my brother came home,” said Gretel.
“I hope you have a brother, too; brothers are so nice. I never knew how
nice mine was till he came back from China.”
“China!” repeated Miss Heath in surprise; “did your brother go to
China? I have been there, too. My father was a great traveler, and
he and I have been nearly all over the world together. It was on our
voyage home from China that he was taken ill. He died in San Francisco,
and I have been alone ever since, for I am not so fortunate as you. I
was an only child, and my mother died when I was a little girl.”
Miss Heath smiled bravely, but her eyes looked sad, and her lip
trembled a little. With a sudden loving impulse, Gretel slipped her
hand into that of her new friend.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered; “I wish you had a brother.” That was
all, but Miss Heath squeezed the kind little hand tight, and Gretel
felt sure that she understood.
They were on their way from the car to the hotel when Gretel caught
sight of her brother, standing on the sidewalk just in front of them,
in conversation with another gentleman.
“There’s Percy!” she exclaimed eagerly to Miss Heath, for she still
lingered by her new friend’s side, although the twins had run on ahead,
and Mr. Barlow stopped to do an errand.
“Where, dear?” Miss Heath asked, for she was beginning to feel some
curiosity in this big brother, of whom her little friend seemed so
proud.
“There, that tall gentleman, talking to the old man in spectacles.
That’s my brother; don’t you think he’s handsome?”
But Miss Heath did not answer. She had come to a sudden standstill,
and her cheeks had grown very pink. Just then Mr. Douane caught sight
of Gretel and her companion, and he too stopped short in evident
astonishment.
“Barbara--I beg your pardon,--Miss Heath! Is it possible?”
Gretel’s eyes opened wide in amazement, and well they might, for there
was her tall brother holding Miss Heath’s hand, and gazing down at her
with such a strange, glad look in his eyes, and there was Miss Heath
actually trembling a little, as she declared that she had never been
so surprised in her life.
“I hadn’t the least idea you were in this country,” Gretel heard her
say, and her voice did not sound quite steady, although she was smiling
and looking prettier than ever.
“And you,” said Mr. Douane, “I had no idea where you were. I tried to
find you, but you had left no address at the hotel in Hong-Kong.”
“I suppose Father must have forgotten to leave any,” said Miss Heath.
“He was not well, and decided to leave rather suddenly.”
For the first few moments neither Mr. Douane nor Miss Heath appeared
to remember Gretel’s existence, but when Miss Heath explained that
she had come to Old Point with a Mr. and Mrs. Barlow, and Mr. Douane
explained in his turn that he and his little sister were staying at the
“Chamberlain,” he suddenly remembered Gretel, and turned to look for
her. And then everybody was surprised all over again.
“I had no idea the brother my little friend Gretel has been telling me
so much about would turn out to be a friend of mine as well,” said Miss
Heath, “but I don’t think I quite understand the situation even yet.
She tells me her name is Schiller.”
“My mother’s second husband was Hermann Schiller, the pianist,” said
Mr. Douane; “Gretel is their little girl. We never knew each other till
about ten days ago, but we are great chums now.” And he slipped an arm
affectionately round his little sister.
“Oh, Percy,” exclaimed Gretel, the moment she and her brother were
alone together, having left Miss Heath at the Barlows’ cottage, “isn’t
she the dearest, loveliest young lady you ever saw, and aren’t you glad
you’ve found her again? I heard you tell her you’d been trying to find
her.”
“I am indeed,” answered Mr. Douane, heartily.