“I should much prefer to hear you. I am tired and weak from travel and anxiety. It would gratify me much if you would consent to let me be the listener.”
Mr. Werner good-naturedly complied, and played, of course, from Beethoven. It was one of those grand sonatas which are the peculiar glory of that great master. The performance was a fine one, and Carlos expressed his approval enthusiastically. Then, on further invitation, he seated himself at the piano and played a short, solemn extract from the same composer.
“You play as well as I do,” cried Mr. Werner, “or, at least, you have. But you are not in practice.”
“No,” replied Carlos.
“You shall be my pupil,” said Mr. Werner.
“Willingly,” replied Carlos. “Indeed, that must be my excuse for being here, if any inquiries are made.”
“A capital arrangement,” declared Mr. Werner.
The day was passed very pleasantly. Mr. Werner was a frugal liver, and frequently purchased his own provisions, taking his meals in his room. On this occasion a double supply was bought, which Carlos shared with him. Afterward they had a pleasant smoke and chat together.
About two o’clock Mr. Werner went out to give a lesson, for he already had two pupils, and was patiently waiting for more.
During his absence Carlos found occupation in looking over some piles of music, of which Mr. Werner had a valuable collection, embracing most of the standard compositions, as well as many quaint gems not so well known. Thus employed, the time passed rapidly.