Evelyn Innes | Page 5

that music must have surprised him. What did he say?"
"I don't think I sang very well, but he seemed pleased, and asked me if I
knew any modern music. I said 'Very little.' He was surprised at that.
But he said I had a very fine voice, and sang the old music beautifully,
but that it would be impossible for me to sing modern music without
ruining my voice, until I had been taught. I asked him if it would not be
well to try to earn a little money by concert singing, so that I might go
abroad later on. He said, 'I am glad that all my arrangements are made,
otherwise I might be tempted to offer you an engagement. One
engagement leads to another, and if you sing before your voice is
properly placed'--'posée' was the word he used--'you will ruin it.'"
"Is that all?"
"Yes, that's all." Then, noticing the pained look that had come into her
father's face, she added, "It was nice to hear that he thought well of my
voice."
But she could tell what he was thinking of, and regretting her tongue's

indiscretion, she tried to divert his thoughts from herself. His brooding
look continued, and to remove it she had to fetch his pipe and tobacco.
When he had filled it for the third time he said--
"There is the Bach and the Handel sonata waiting for us; we ought to be
getting to work."
"I'm quite ready, father. I suppose I must not eat any more oranges,"
and she surveyed her plate full of skins.
Mr. Innes took up the lamp, Evelyn called to the servant to get another,
and followed him into the music-room. The lamps were placed on the
harpsichord. She lighted some candles, and in the moods and
aspirations of great men they found a fairyland, and the lights
disappeared from the windows opposite, leaving them still there.
The wings of the hours were light--weariness could not reach
them--and at half-past eleven Mr. Innes was speaking of a beautiful
motet, "O Magnum Mysterium," by Vittoria. His fingers lingered in the
wailing chords, and he said--
"That is where Wagner went for his chorus of youths in the cupola. The
critics haven't discovered it yet; they are still talking of Palestrina."
CHAPTER TWO
Jesuits from St. Joseph's were not infrequently seen at Mr. Innes's
concerts. The worthy fathers, although they did not see their way to
guaranteeing a yearly grant of money sufficient to ensure adequate
performances of Palestrina's finest works, were glad to support, with
occasional guineas, their organist's concerts. Painters and men of letters
were attracted by them; musicians seldom. Nor did Mr. Innes
encourage their presence. Musicians were of no use to him. They were,
he said, divided into two classes--those who came to scoff, and those
who came to steal. He did not want either sort.
The rare music interested but a handful, and the audience that had come
from London shivered in remembrance of the east wind which had

accompanied their journey. But this little martyrdom did not seem to be
entirely without its satisfactions, and conscious of superiority, they
settled themselves to listen to the few words of explanation with which
Mr. Innes was accustomed to introduce the music that was going to be
played. He was speaking, when he was interrupted by the servant-maid,
who whispered and gave him a card: "Sir Owen Asher, Bart., 27
Berkeley Square." He left the room hurriedly, and his audience
surmised from his manner that something important had happened.
Sir Owen, seemingly a tall man, certainly above the medium height,
was waiting for him in the passage. His thin figure was wrapped tightly
in an overcoat, most of his face was concealed in the collar, and the
pale gold-coloured moustache showed in contrast to the dark brown fur.
The face, wide across the forehead, acquired an accent in the pointed
chin and strongly marked jaw. The straight nose was thin and well
shaped in the nostrils. "An attractive man of forty" would be the
criticism of a woman. Sir Owen's attractiveness concentrated in his
sparkling eyes and his manner, which was at once courteous and manly.
He told Mr. Innes that he had heard of his concerts that morning at the
office of the Wagnerian Review, and Mr. Innes indulged in his habitual
dream of a wealthy patron who would help him to realise his musical
ambitions. Sir Owen had just bought the periodical, he intended to
make it an organ of advanced musical culture, and would like to
include a criticism of these concerts. Mr. Innes begged Sir Owen to
come into the concert-room. But while taking off his coat, Sir Owen
mentioned what he had heard regarding Mr. Innes's desire to revive the
vocal