"Impossible!" said Gretchen. "Superior to my uncle's writings," repeated the Assessor, with generous indignation. "I do not know the author's name, nor the circumstances of the case--my uncle is not fond of going into details in his letters--but the matter has vexed him to such a degree, and his dispute with Professor Weber has assumed such proportions, that he has thought fit to tender his resignation. It is, of course, nothing but a menace; they would never let him go--the University would suffer far too great a loss by his withdrawal--but he considers it necessary to put some pressure on the personages in question."
"I wish it Would take effect," said Gretchen, with such a wrathful expression that Hubert drew back a step in his surprise, only to advance two the next minute, however.
"It makes me very happy to see you take such an interest in my uncle's welfare. He, too, is already most kindly disposed towards you. I have often mentioned in my letters the family at whose house I find so hospitable a welcome, and he would be delighted to hear that I was to be connected ..."
He had got so far on the road again, when the girl jumped up in desperation, ran to the open piano, and began to play; but she undervalued her suitor's persistency. Next moment he was at her side, listening to her.
"Ah, the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes, my favourite piece. Yes, music is the language which best renders the feelings of the soul; is it not so, Fräulein Margaret?"
Fräulein Margaret thought that to-day everything had conspired together against her. This was, as it happened, the only piece she knew by heart, and she dared not get up and run to fetch her notes, for the Assessor's looks plainly said that he was only waiting for a pause in her performance to give vent to the feelings of his soul in words. So the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes raged over the piano to the time of a galop. The noise was fearful, and a string broke; but no matter, such a din must drown any love declaration.
"Ought this to be fortissimo, do you think?" Hubert ventured to remark. "I always fancied the piece should be played in a soft, melting piano."
"I play it fortissimo," declared Gretchen, and banged on the notes so violently that the second string broke.
The Assessor was growing rather nervous. "You will spoil this beautiful instrument," said he, making himself heard with difficulty.
"What are pianos in the world for?" cried Gretchen; and, seeing that the musical uproar was disagreeable to the Assessor, she raised it to an almost incredible pitch, and deliberately sacrificed a third string. At last her strategy succeeded. Hubert saw that he would not be allowed to speak to-day, and beat a retreat, a little annoyed, but with unshaken confidence. The young lady had nursed him with such touching care when he was ill with his cold, and to-day she had spoken of him as a remarkably clever man, and had reproached him with lacking self-confidence. True, her waywardness defied all calculation; but she loved him nevertheless.