“No, sir; I think it would be better not. I want to encourage you—not discourage; of course, I could play it more perfectly, but then I have practised for years.”
“Yes; I suppose so.”
“But I can make you play that twice as well in a week.”
“Do you think so?” cried the lieutenant, eagerly.
“I’m sure of it, sir. Now, again, please. I’ll play each note on the piano, and I want you to blow that note firmly and with a full breath. Never mind about time, blow each note as if it were a minim, giving a breath to each.”
It was a complete change of position, the officer diligently obeying his subordinate, and working hard, if with no brilliant effect, till quite a couple of hours had passed, when he laid down his flute.
“I shall never do it.”
Dick smiled.
“You shall do it, sir,” he cried. “I’ll make you.”
“You will, Smithson? Ah! if you only can! When will you come again? I want to play it so very badly.”