“Yes, sir.”
“My name’s Heath, and I’ve a darter that’s taken it into her head that she wants to come to school to ye.”
“She vill study the klavier—the piano-forte?”
“Yes, that’s it. Bein’ that we live four miles out of the village, she thought she could come in twice ’t week. I think it’s all blamed nonsense myself, but her mind is so sot on it that I’ve rented an instrument for the winter. What’s yer price?”
Karl made known his terms, his mind being in a state of perplexity at this new phase of affairs, and being filled with a presentiment that it was the forerunner of some new evil. There was nothing in Jake Heath’s actions to warrant this; for, as soon as the arrangements were completed, he took his departure. But for a girl of Kate Heath’s station and surroundings to study music was a novel, and, to Karl, a suspicious circumstance.
Consequently, it was with considerable curiosity and anxiety that he awaited her first call on him. On the following day she came.
Herr Zikoff was surprised at her appearance. She was well-dressed, and there was no uncouthness in her manner. She had a strange, wild sort of beauty, and the face, at which he had only glanced casually on that terrible stormy night, now revealed a spirit and a nature of no ordinary cast.
She looked at him steadfastly and earnestly for a moment, and as she did so a slight flush and a peculiar, indefinable expression passed across her features. Karl observed this with a feeling of uneasiness, but, with the nervous, bristling manner which it was his task to assume, proceeded at once to business.
“You already know something of music?” he questioned.
“Yes,” she replied. “When in New York I studied it some.”