“But it wouldn’t break; everything else does. He’ll ruin me before he has done.—I have sent for you, Smithson,” said the lieutenant, “because I want you to give me some lessons on the flute.”
“Oh, with pleasure, sir,” began Dick. “I—I beg your pardon, sir. Of course, if you wish it.”
“I hope it will be with pleasure, Smithson,” said the lieutenant, smiling; “but I’m afraid it will not be; for, between ourselves, I am very dull over music.”
“I used to think I was, sir,” said Dick; “but I worked hard till I could play a bit.”
“A bit!” said the lieutenant, smiling. “Ah, well, I won’t flatter you. I should like you to come often and play with me—duets and pieces. The fact is, Smithson, I want to perform something in—in—in public one evening—a duet. I have been thinking that I might play the first part and you the second. What do you think?”
“I think the same as you do, sir,” said Dick. “When would you like to begin?”
“Well, the fact is, Smithson, I am rather pressed for time.”
“I will come in at any hour you appoint, sir—that is, if there is no band practice.”
“Oh, the colonel will speak to Wilkins about that, Smithson; but you do not understand me. I have plenty of time, but I am pressed—anxious to play a duet or two as soon as possible.”
“I understand, sir,” said Dick, scanning the handsome face and athletic mould of the young officer, as the feeling grew upon him that the former was what some people would call rather mild; “but I am no teacher, would you like Mr Wilkins to give you some lessons?”