This was a kind offer and was thankfully accepted. Laura, in her great joy, ventured to ask Ilse to go with her into her private room. They ascended to the upper story. There the little sofa, the ivy screen, the shepherd and shepherdess, were duly admired, and finally the new piano.
"Will you play something for me?" asked Ilse. "I cannot play at all. We had an old piano but I learnt only a few tunes from my dear, mother for the children to dance to."
Laura took a piece of music, the first leaf of which was beautifully ornamented with gilded elves and lilies, and played the "Elfin Waltz," secretly trembling, but with great execution; and she explained, laughingly, with a shake of her black locks, the passages where the spirits came fluttering in and mysteriously chattered together. Ilse was highly delighted.
"How quickly your little fingers fly," she said, regarding Laura's delicate hand with admiration. "See how large my hand is in comparison and how hard the skin--that comes from doing housework."
Laura looked entreatingly at her. "If I might only hear you sing."
"I can sing nothing but hymns and some old country songs."
"Oh, do sing them," begged Laura. "I will endeavor to accompany you."
Ilse began an old melody and Laura tried a modest accompaniment and listened with transport to the rich sound of Ilse's voice; she felt her heart tremble under the swelling tones and ventured to join in the last verse.
After this she searched for a song which was known to both, and, when they succeeded tolerably in singing together, Laura clapped her hands enthusiastically, and they determined to practice some easy songs to surprise the Professor.
In the course of conversation Ilse confessed that she had seldom heard a concert, and occasionally when visiting in the neighborhood, had seen a play, but only one opera.