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M. Thillard made light of this. It was always thus at first. One must have patience. "One must live," said Hadria, "or at least such is the prejudice under which one has been brought up." "All will come," said M. Thillard. "You will see."
"If Madame has a character as strong as her genius, her name will one day be on the lips of all the world." He looked at her searchingly. "I knew it!" exclaimed M. Thillard. "Madame, je vous félicite." "Ah!" cried Jouffroy, with a shake of his black shaggy head, "this is not a fate to be envied. C'est dur!"
This time M. Thillard had discovered the lodging for her; a shabby, but sunny little house, kept by a motherly woman with a reputation for perfect honesty. Expenses were thus kept down, but unhappily very little was coming in to meet them. It was impossible to pull through the year at this rate. But, of course, there was daily hope of something turning up.
Jouffroy gave a nod of satisfaction. If there had been no such quiver of nerves he would have doubted. So he said afterwards to M. Thillard and Madame Vauchelet. After listening, for a time, without moving a muscle, he suddenly sat bolt upright and looked round at the player.
The piano was opened. Jouffroy played. Madame Vauchelet, with her large veil thrown back, her black cashmere folds falling around her, sat in the large arm-chair, a dignified and graceful figure, listening gravely. The kindly, refined face of M. Thillard beamed with enjoyment; an occasional cry of admiration escaping his lips, at some exquisite touch from the master.
The time slipped by, with bewildering rapidity. Monsieur Thillard asked if they might be allowed to hear some of Madame's compositions those which she had already been so amiable as to play to him. Jouffroy settled himself to listen; his shaggy eyebrows lowering over his eyes, not in severity but in fixity of attention. Hadria trembled for a moment, as her hands touched the keys.
It had so distinct and remarkable an individuality that M. Thillard was sure Jouffroy would be enchanted with it. For himself, he held that it shewed a development of musical form and expression extremely remarkable. He could not quite understand it.
M. Thillard reminded Madame Temperley of her kind permission to present to her M. Jouffroy. Madame Temperley was charmed and flattered by Monsieur's visit. It was an exciting afternoon. Madame Vauchelet was eager to hear the opinion of the great man, and anxious for Hadria to make a good impression.
Madame Vauchelet consulted her musical friends. People were sympathetic, but rather vague in their advice. It was always difficult, this affair. The beginning was hard. M. Thillard, a kindly, highly-cultivated man of about sixty, who had heard Hadria play, took great interest in her talent, and busied himself on her behalf. He said he would like to interest the great Jouffroy in this work.
"And can she bear to be misunderstood; to be derided for departure from old rules and conventions; to have her work despised and refused, and again refused, till at last the dull ears shall be opened and all the stupid world shall run shouting to her feet?" The colour rushed into Hadria's cheeks. "Voila!" exclaimed Madame Vauchelet. M. Thillard beamed with satisfaction. "Did I not tell you?"
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