"In Vernex, where, as yet, the hotels had not rendered the beautiful shore unsafe, we found an excellent house, entirely after our own hearts. It was arranged for only a dozen guests, and was situated in the midst of a beautifully green garden, with a most glorious view of the lake and the mountains on the south shore. We settled ourselves in two spacious rooms on the second floor. My wife and child slept in the small room; the large one adjoining it served as the sitting-room, and at night my bed was made on the divan. The corresponding rooms on the ground floor beneath us were occupied during the first day by an English couple, who disturbed us by continual playing on the piano; but when they departed on the following day, they left such stillness behind them that we might have considered ourselves the only persons in the paradise, had not the usual meals, in an elegant dining-room, reminded us that we still had half-gods near us.
"On the first evening I was surprised by a tender stratagem of my wife's. As I unpacked the great trunk belonging to her and the child, which she herself had filled at home, I struck something hard, which proved to be my violin-case.
"I embraced her heartily as I saw her smile with pleasure because she had accomplished this so cleverly and secretly.
"'As I brought my color-box,' she said, 'there was no need for your instrument to remain at home. I know a hundred places by the lake and on the road to Montreux, where I can carry on my daubing by the hour, while you are conjuring your uncanny spirits up here.'
"Yet it happened otherwise than I had first thought in my excitement over her loving forethought. The case remained unopened, and for a full week not one musical thought occurred to me. I would sit by the hour on the balcony with an unopened book in my hand, wholly absorbed in the nobly beautiful picture before me. Or I would accompany my wife and child on their walks; and when my wife had settled down to sketch the magnificent chestnut-trees, or the white houses surrounded with fig-trees and vineyards, glimmering on the slopes in the ravines between Montreux and Veytaux, I would stretch myself in the shade near by; chat with the child, who was visibly improving; and feel so completely satisfied with God and man, that that sultan who vainly searched the world for the happiest man would finally have found him in me.
"One morning I allowed them to go out alone, for I had several necessary letters to write. It was a quiet, beautiful day; not a breath of air ruffled the mirror-like lake; I had moved my table before the open balcony door, and was congratulating myself on the deep stillness of the house, when, in the room beneath me, I suddenly heard that fateful piano, which I had so often cursed, sound again, and so loudly that I knew the lower balcony door must also be open. In my vexation I at first closed mine; but after listening a moment or two, I reopened the door and stepped outside, in order not to lose the slightest tone. The ten fingers playing Bach's Prelude on the little piano below me belonged to no Englishwoman. Late last evening new guests had moved in--so the chambermaid had announced--a French man and woman, brother and sister. Which of the two was then playing I naturally did not know. But from the touch, although it was firm and strong when necessary, I decided upon the sister. I have seldom heard such beautiful, distinct, and, as it were, mature playing; yet it had no trace of so-called classic objectivity, but rather a very personal charm, as if the player's deepest nature were speaking to me. I would have wagered my head that the musician was a brunette, with those gray eyes which Spaniards call 'green.' I know it is folly; but it is not the only one of which you will find me guilty, and it had not less power over me because a sound human intelligence might resist it.
"You know that Gounod composed a violin accompaniment for this Prelude. The purists and Bach-pedants reject it. But it has such an irresistible melody that every violinist learns it by heart. It was not long before I had taken my instrument from its case, tuned it sufficiently, and placed the bow in position. And then began a most wonderful duet on two floors, played with as much calmness and precision as if it had been well practised. There was not the slightest hesitation; my violin was never in better condition, and the little piano rang as full and soft as if it had been changed over night into a powerful concert grand.
"After we finished there came a pause, and I wondered with some trepidation if another approach than that of sounds would be proper. I stepped out on the balcony, hoping that the player would appear on the terrace. But a new piece which she began drew me forthwith back into the room. This time it was a Chopin Impromptu which I knew perfectly. Since I had been unable to play much, I had read an unlimited quantity of music, and my memory was very well trained.
"Again seizing my bow, I attempted a modest accompaniment to the somewhat quaint, but passionately musical, confession. Then came something from Schumann, and so on ad infinitum. I believe we played three full hours at one stretch. When my wife finally returned--it was the second breakfast--hour she found me much overheated, and bathed in perspiration.
"She even listened to the last bars of a Beethoven sonata, to which I was playing the treble. 'What duet have you arranged for yourself?' she asked, smiling, and when I told her that I knew the pianist as little as she did, she laughed outright. 'I did not bring the violin in vain, after all, and if I sketch chestnut-trees by the hour, I shall know that you are busy and happy.'