Tales From Two Hemispheres | Page 9

at his side had suddenly filled him with a strange burning and
shuddering happiness; he could not tear his eyes away from her; she
held him as by a powerful spell. And still, all the while he had a painful
sub-consciousness of his own unfortunate appearance, which was
thrown into cruel relief by her splendor. The tall, lithe magnificence of
her form, the airy elegance of her toilet, which seemed the perfection of
self-concealing art, the elastic deliberateness of her step--all wrought
like a gentle, deliciously soothing opiate upon the Norseman's fancy
and lifted him into hitherto unknown regions of mingled misery and
bliss. She seemed a combination of the most divine contradictions, one
moment supremely conscious, and in the next adorably child-like and
simple, now full of arts and coquettish innuendoes, then again nave,
unthinking and almost boyishly blunt and direct; in a word, one of
those miraculous New York girls whom abstractly one may disapprove
of, but in the concrete must abjectly adore. This easy predominance of
the masculine heart over the mas- culine reason in the presence of an
impressive woman, has been the motif of a thousand tragedies in times
past, and will inspire a thousand more in times to come.
Halfdan sat down at the grand piano and played Chopin's Nocturne in
G major, flinging out that elaborate filigree of sound with an
impetuosity and superb ABANDON which caused the ladies to
exchange astonished glances behind his back. The transitions from the
light and ethereal texture of melody to the simple, more concrete theme,
which he rendered with delicate shadings of articulation, were
sufficiently startling to impress even a less cultivated ear than that of
Edith Van Kirk, who had, indeed, exhausted whatever musical
resources New York has to offer. And she was most profoundly
impressed. As he glided over the last pianissimo notes toward the two
concluding chords (an ending so characteristic of Chopin) she rose and
hurried to his side with a heedless eagerness, which was more eloquent
than emphatic words of praise.

"Won't you please repeat this passage?" she said, humming the air with
soft modulations; "I have always regarded the monotonous repetition of
this strain" (and she indicated it lightly by a few touches of the keys)
"as rather a blemish of an otherwise perfect composition. But as you
play it, it is anything but monotonous. You put into this single phrase a
more intense meaning and a greater variety of thought than I ever
suspected it was capable of expressing."
"It is my favorite composition," answered he, modestly. "I have
bestowed more thought upon it than upon anything I have ever played,
unless perhaps it be the one in G minor, which, with all its difference of
mood and phraseology, expresses an essentially kindred thought."
"My dear Mr. Birch," exclaimed Mrs. Van Kirk, whom his skillful
employment of technical terms (in spite of his indifferent accent) had
impressed even more than his rendering of the music,--"you are a
comsummate{sic} artist, and we shall deem it a great privilege if you
will undertake to instruct our child. I have listened to you with
profound satisfaction."
Halfdan acknowledged the compliment by a bow and a blush, and
repeated the latter part of the nocturne according to Edith's request.
"And now," resumed Edith, "may I trouble you to play the G minor,
which has even puzzled me more than the one you have just played."
"It ought really to have been played first," replied Halfdan. "It is far
intenser in its coloring and has a more passionate ring, but its
conclusion does not seem to be final. There is no rest in it, and it seems
oddly enough to be a mere transition into the major, which is its proper
supplement and completes the fragmentary thought."
Mother and daughter once more telegraphed wondering looks at each
other, while Halfdan plunged into the impetuous movements of the
minor nocturne, which he played to the end with ever-increasing fervor
and animation.
"Mr. Birch," said Edith, as he arose from the piano with a flushed face,

and the agitation of the music still tingling through his nerves. "You are
a far greater musician than you seem to be aware of. I have not been
taking lessons for some time, but you have aroused all my musical
ambition, and if you will accept me too, as a pupil, I shall deem it a
favor."
"I hardly know if I can teach you anything," answered he, while his
eyes dwelt with keen delight on her beautiful form. "But in my present
position I can hardly afford to decline so flattering an offer."
"You mean to say that you would decline it if you were in a position to
do so," said she, smiling.
"No, only that I should question my