“But I cannot tell to-day whether I will undertake to give her this instruction. The young lady must first take a few lessons, and then I will decide whether I will go on with her—yes or no. According to my impression of to-day, there is little chance for yes.”
“Oh, do not judge by to-day’s test; the poor girl was so nervous—I really did not know her.”
“If one suffers from nervousness, one is not fitted for the career of an artist; an additional reason for giving it up.”
“Her timidity will disappear when she gets used to it,” urged my mother.
“Very well, then; come next Monday at the same hour.” And we were dismissed.
We returned to the hotel, and there I gave vent to my suppressed anguish in a burst of tears.
“Never, never again will I set foot in that Viardot villa! Let us go away, mamma; I will never let myself be seen in that woman’s presence again! It is over—it is all over!” My world lay in ruins. The “one important thing” was annihilated.
IX
THE YEAR 1866
Return · Elvira’s death · Fürstenberg’s death · The war · Homburg once more · Back to Baden · Baron Koller
We journeyed back to our Baden villa. Professor Beranek was indignant at Madame Viardot. For a long time I would sing no more. But at length he brought me to it.
“You will not have been the first,” he said consolingly, “who has failed of recognition at a trial and has then put the false prophets to shame through greatness fairly won.”