That night, just at the turn of dawn, Margaret was awakened by a hot hand upon her face. “Dearie,” said Aunt Peace, weakly, “will you come? I’m almost burning up with fever.”
XI
“Sunset and Evening Star”
Doctor Brinkerhoff came in the morning, but afterward, when Margaret questioned him, he shook his head sadly. “I will do the best I can,” he said, “and none of us can do more.” He went down the path, bent and old. He seemed to have aged since the previous night.
On Friday, Lynn went to Herr Kaufmann’s as usual, but he played carelessly. “Young man,” said the Master, “why is it that you study the violin?”
“Why?” repeated Lynn. “Well, why not?”
“It is all the same,” returned the Master, frankly. “I can teach you nothing. You have the technique and the good wrist, you read quickly, but you play like one parrot. When I say ‘fortissimo,’ you play fortissimo; when I say ‘allegro,’ you play allegro. You are one obedient pupil,” he continued, making no effort to conceal his scorn.
“What else should I be?” asked Lynn.