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Only there is one thing I will ask of you," he added, as he smoothed the sheets which lay on the music-desk with his hand; "think of me what you will, call me egotist even, I don't object to that; but don't call me a man of the world, that name is insufferable. Anch'io sono pittore.
Nothing mattered any longer nothing except that Max was here here, within reach of the great love in her heart that was stretching out its arms to him . . . calling him back. The audience, ardently applauding her first song, saw her turn and give some brief instruction to her accompanist, who nodded, laying aside the song which she had just placed upon the music-desk.
And now the haunch of mutton vapour-bath having received a gamey infusion, and a few last touches of sweets and coffee, was quite ready, and the bathers came; but not before the discreet automaton had got behind the bars of the piano music-desk, and there presented the appearance of a captive languishing in a rose-wood jail.
Chepstow's sitting-room at the Savoy was decorated with pink and green in pale hues which suited well her present scheme of colour. In it there was a little rosewood piano. Upon that piano's music-desk, on the following day, stood a copy of Elgar's "Dream of Gerontius," open at the following words: "Proficiscere, anima Christiana, de hoc mundo! Go forth upon thy journey, Christian soul!
Full of these thoughts, and my head, perhaps, a little bewildered by them, I passed unobserved into the orchestra, and ensconced myself in a little niche under the music-desk of the leader. I was surprised to find myself in a little cavity, from which there were loop-holes of observation into every part of the house, while there was a front view of the stage when the curtain should be raised.
It was impossible to refuse. I went to my papers, and brought it. The evil spirit of thoughtlessness possessed me, and when I delivered it I asked Is there any thing else? Your kindness, madam, said he, is unalterable. Could I? Durst I ? What? He paused Speak! He laid the song upon the music-desk, and looked No no I will not attempt to tell you how!
A grand piano was so placed that the light from either window or candles would fall comfortably upon the music-desk; and on a stool beside it rested a violin case. Trent opened the case, and, lifting the violin from is cushiony bed of padded satin, fingered it caressingly. "Can you read accompaniments?" he asked, flashing the question at her with his usual abruptness. "Yes."
"Last talks are always odious!" he flung out abruptly. "Last?" she queried. Her fingers were trifling nervously with the pages of an album of songs that rested against the music-desk. He did not look at her. "Yes," he said quietly. "I'm going away. I leave for Paris to-morrow." There was a crash of jangled notes as the album suddenly pitched forward on to the keys of the piano.
With respect to the song, at which you have last taken offence, its brief history is that it was written, or at least first seen by me, soon after our arrival in France. I found it on my music-desk; and I dare affirm it had been left there by mistake, not design. I supposed it to be his from the hand-writing; and I set it because it affected me.
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