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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Why didn't I find you that first winter? I'd have loved you just as you came!" Thea shook her head. "No, you wouldn't, but you might have found me amusing. The Harsanyis said yesterday afternoon that I wore such a funny cape and that my shoes always squeaked. They think I've improved. I told them it was your doing if I had, and then they looked scared." "Did you sing for Harsanyi?" "Yes.
Although she cared so much less for Bowers than for Harsanyi, Thea was, on the whole, happier since she had been studying with him than she had been before. She had always told herself that she studied piano to fit herself to be a music teacher. But she never asked herself why she was studying voice.
Miss Kronborg says if there is anything in her, you are the man who can say what it is." The journalist scented copy and was eager. "Yes, Harsanyi. You know all about her. What's her secret?" Harsanyi rumpled his hair irritably and shrugged his shoulders. "Her secret? It is every artist's secret," he waved his hand, "passion. That is all. It is an open secret, and perfectly safe.
The singing came at the end of the lesson hour, and they both treated it as a form of relaxation. Harsanyi did not say much even to his wife about his discovery. He brooded upon it in a curious way. He found that these unscientific singing lessons stimulated him in his own study.
All his life Thomas did his best to repay what he felt he owed to the singer's art. No man could get such singing from choruses, and no man worked harder to raise the standard of singing in schools and churches and choral societies. All through the lesson Thea had felt that Harsanyi was restless and abstracted.
The little daughter, Tanya, liked to touch Miss Kronborg's yellow hair and pat it, saying, "Dolly, dolly," because it was of a color much oftener seen on dolls than on people. But if Harsanyi opened the piano and sat down to play, Miss Kronborg gradually drew away from the children, retreated to a corner and became sullen or troubled. Mrs.
"Say what you will, Thea Kronborg, you are not that sort of person. You will never sit alone with a pacifier and a novel. You won't subsist on what the old ladies have put into the bottle for you. You will always break through into the realities. That was the first thing Harsanyi found out about you; that you couldn't be kept on the outside.
"You mean take lessons of Bowers?" Harsanyi nodded, without lifting his head. "But I can't, Mr. Harsanyi. I haven't got the time, and, besides " she blushed and drew her shoulders up stiffly "besides, I can't afford to pay two teachers." Thea felt that she had blurted this out in the worst possible way, and she turned back to the keyboard to hide her chagrin. "I know that.
I didn't know where the words were from until once, when Harsanyi sang it for me, I recognized them." Fred closed the book. "Let me see, what was your noble brakeman's name?" Thea looked up with surprise. "Ray, Ray Kennedy." "Ray Kennedy!" he laughed. "It couldn't well have been better! Wunsch and Dr. Archie, and Ray, and I," he told them off on his fingers, "your whistling-posts!
Harsanyi found in Thea a pupil with sure, strong hands, one who read rapidly and intelligently, who had, he felt, a richly gifted nature. But she had been given no direction, and her ardor was unawakened. She had never heard a symphony orchestra. The literature of the piano was an undiscovered world to her.
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