Part 37 (1/2)
Phoebe and I are homesick,--we do not deny it, and we are sorry you can't see things as we do; but since that night when I stumbled over you in the snow, and carried you to my own hearth, you have been to Phoebe and me--as the child we lost; and unless you are ready to go home with us, we stay here. You know we never will forsake you, especially now. Hush,--don't speak, Phoebe. Come away, wife; she is crying like a tired child. I never saw her give way like that before.
It will do her good. Every tear softens the spasms that wring her poor heart when she thinks of her baby. In crossing the ocean she said that every rolling wave seemed to her a grave, in which she was burying her blue-eyed baby. Let her alone to-day; keep out of her sight. To-morrow we will arrange to quit Paris, I hope for ever.”
CHAPTER XVI.
”Mrs. Palma, if you are at leisure, I should like to see you for a moment.”
”Certainly, Miss Orme; come in.”
Mrs. Palma looked up for an instant only from the blue sash which she was embroidering with silver.
”Is your discourse confidential? If so, I shall certainly retire, and leave you and mamma to tender communings, and an interchange of souls,” said Olga, who reclined on a lounge in her mother's room, and slowly turned the leaves of a volume of Balzac.
”Not at all confidential. Mrs. Palma, I have reason to fear that my practising has long annoyed you.”
”Upon what do you base your supposition? During the year I have not found fault with you, have I?”
”Hattie told me that you often complained that you could no longer enjoy your morning nap, because the sound of the piano disturbed you; and I wish to change the hour. The reason why I selected that time was because I always rose early and practised before breakfast until I came here; and because later in the day company in the parlours or reception-room keep me out. I am anxious to do whatever is most agreeable to you.”
”It is very true that when I am out frequently until two and three o'clock, with Olga, it is not particularly refres.h.i.+ng to be aroused at seven by scales and exercises. People who live as continually in society as we do must have a little rest.
”I have been trying to arrange, so as to avoid annoying you, but do not well see how to correct the trouble. From nine until one Mr. Van Kleik comes to attend to my Latin, German, French, and mathematics, and from four until five Professor Hurtzsel gives me my lessons. In the interval persons are frequently calling, and of course interrupt me. If you will only tell me what you wish, I will gladly consult your convenience.
”Indeed, Miss Orme, I do not know when the tiresome practising will be convenient, though of course it is a necessary evil and must be borne. The fact is, that magnificent grand piano downstairs ought never to be thrummed upon for daily practising. I told Erle soon after you came that it was a shame to have it so abused, but men have no understanding of the fitness of things.”
”Pray, mamma, do not forget your Bible injunction: 'Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's,' and to music, the matters that belong to its own divine art. Until Regina came among us that melodious siren in the front parlour had a chronic lock-jaw from want of use.
Some of the white keys stuck fast when they were touched, and the black ones were so stiff they almost required a hammer to make them sound. Do let her limber them at her own 'sweet will.' Who wants a piano locked up, like that hideous old china and heavy gla.s.s that your grandfather's fifth cousin brought over from Amsterdam?”
”At what time of day did you practise when you were a young girl?”
asked Regina, appealing to the figure now coiled up on the lounge.
”At none, thank fortune! Regard me as a genuine _rara avis_, a fas.h.i.+onable young lady with no more apt.i.tude for the 'concord of sweet sounds,' than for the abstractions of Hegel, or Differential Calculus. It is traditional, that while in my nurse's arms, I performed miracles of melody such as Auld Lang Syne, with one little finger; but such undue precocity, madly stimulated by ambitious mamma and nurse Nell, resulted fatally in the total destruction of my marvellous talent, which died of cerebro-musical excitement when confronted with the gamut. Except as the language in which Strauss appeals to my waltzing genius, I have no more use for it than for ancient Aztec. Thank Heaven! this is a progressive age, and girls are no longer tormented as formerly by piano fiends, who once persisted in pounding and squeezing music into their poor struggling nauseated souls, as relentlessly as girls' feet are still squeezed in China. My talent is not for the musical tones of Pythagoras.”
”I should be truly glad to learn in what direction it tends.” said her mother, rather severely.
Up rose the head with its tawny crown, and there was evident emphasis in the ringing voice and in the fiery glance that darted from her laughing hazel eyes.
”Cruel mamma! Because Euterpe did not preside when I was lucklessly ushered into this dancing gilt bubble that we call the world, were all good gifts denied me? The fairies ordained that I should paint, should soar like Apelles, Angelo, and Da Vinci into the empyrean of pure cla.s.sic art, but no sooner did I dabble in pigment, and plume my slender artistic pin-feathers, than the granite hands of Palma pride seized the ambitious ephemeron, cut off the sprouting wings, and bade me paint only my lips and cheeks, if dabble in paint I must. I am confident the soul of Zeuxis sleeps in mine, but before the _ukase_ of the Palmas a stouter than Zeuxis would quail, lie low,--be silent.
Hence I am a young miss who has no talent, except for appreciating Balzac, caramels, Diavolini, _vanille souffle_, lobster-croquettes, and Strauss' waltzes; though envious people do say that I have a decided genius for 'malapropos historic quotations,' which you know are regarded as unpardonable offences by those who cannot comprehend them. Come here, St. John, and let me rub your fur the wrong way. The world will do it roughly if you survive tender kittenhood, and it is merciful to initiate you early, and by degrees.”
She took up a young black cat that was curled comfortably on the skirt of her dress, and stroking him softly, resumed her book.
Mrs. Palma compressed her lips, knitted her heavy brows, and turned the silk sash to the light to observe the effect of the silver snowdrops she was embroidering.
During her residence under the same roof, Regina had become accustomed to these verbal tournaments between mother and daughter, and having been kept in ignorance of the ground of Olga's grievance, she could not understand allusions that were frequently made in her presence, and which never failed to irritate Mrs. Palma.
Desirous of diverting the conversation from a topic that threatened renewed tilts, she said timidly: