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The vast, unexpected form loomed to his imagination, for a moment, like a tidal-wave rising terrifically in familiar surroundings and poised in menace above him and his wife. He controlled an exclamation of dismay, and the ominous simile receded before a familiar indignation; that, too, he controlled; he could not say: "How stupid!" "Is it a piano?"
"Tell me," she said, "when did you begin to write music?" Andrews brushed the light, disordered hair off his forehead. "Why, I think I forgot to brush my hair this morning," he said. "You see, I was so excited by the idea of coming to Chartres with you." They laughed. "But my mother taught me to play the piano when I was very small," he went on seriously.
The chords of the piano blend with the words of the song: When the veil of night was drawn And crowded earth, mysterious sea Became one sweet, enchanted ground For us, until the starless dawn Dissolved the failing moon then we In one long ecstasy were bound.
Silks and moquette harmonize as well as calico and ingrain once did. A three-story-and-a-half-with-a-high-stoop house, without a piano in the back parlor, and a long mirror between the front parlor windows, would be a forlorn contradiction of the genius of American progress. As flat a denial would be the endeavor to live without what an old lady once described to me as, a "pair of parlors."
"I have been thinking," she said, lightly, "that I should like to be a street singer for a night. If only a piano were not so cumbersome, I should go out and play into the ears of the city the thing that girl put into her song." "Why not?" I asked her, "It would be an adventure, and life has too few adventures." "It might have too many," Dick said. "Not for Leila," Standish declared.
Any one who had been watching me at that moment could hardly have failed to see the state I was in, and this in spite of the fact that I was such a bad performer on the piano. Another work also exercised a great fascination over me, namely, the overture to Fidelio in E major, the introduction to which affected me deeply.
He did not speak to them, nor they to him; nor was any explanation given on either side. He went out across the yard in silence, seeing nothing of the farmer, but hearing a piano begin to play beyond the brightly lighted windows, of which he could catch a glimpse over the low wall separating the yard from the garden.
"I've come for my map," he said. "Who's been divorced?" "No one, Uncle," replied Francie with perfect truth. Timothy took his map off the piano. "Don't let's have anything of that sort in the family," he said. "All this enlistin's bad enough. The country's breakin' up; I don't know what we're comin' to."
Sometimes a wandering wind brought a fresh scent of lusty leaves or a divine hint of bloom. The old-fashioned square piano, long silent, was open now, and had been put in order. In the evenings, after dinner, Edith would play, dreamily, in the dusk or by the light of one candle.
Helene Montgeroult held a prominent position as teacher in the conservatory and publisher of sonatas and other piano pieces. In the early years of the nineteenth century, Mme. Marie Bigot won a great reputation by her playing.
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