“But wasn’t that always uppermost with her?” Judy asked, trying to be fair.
“Not the way it is now. Happiness was a goal as well as one’s ambition. We worked hard but we both loved what we were doing—for each other. She’s changed, I tell you. She’s possessed by this—glitter of my success.” He sat there thinking.
“When I wrote to her about the wonderful friends I made in Aspen, your parents, you, Fran and Marian, she wrote with such happiness, grateful that I had such warm friends. But after Mr. Werther came with his golden promises, her letters became enigmas. New words, new phrases—‘single-mindedness of purpose, friends must not be allowed to take time from hours needed for study or practice,’ a whole philosophy on how to become the great and successful musician!”
Judy’s heart ached for Karl. With amazing intuition she understood that his anger was less directed at his mother than at himself and the choice he must make.
“I don’t want to be pushed,” he said finally. “I have my own ideas. Maybe I could get a scholarship and go on as I have, take my chances. I admit that at first I thought it a pleasant thing to have Mr. Werther obligingly in the wings, like a good fairy, until I gave the signal. Now it is he and my mother who give the signals.”
Judy felt crushed. Her beautiful dream of love and romance was disintegrating into thin air. How could she combat the forces against her? Karl’s mother, her own, Mr. Werther—and Karl? Was he so sure of himself? Wasn’t he glad at first? What really mattered was Karl’s future! It was hard to look at the question objectively, as if it were someone else, not one about whom she cared.
Karl took a letter from his pocket. “Maybe I haven’t done justice to my mother or her reasons,” he said, with a tinge of self-reproach in his voice. “She’d gladly keep on working all her life. It’s only my good she wishes.
“This came yesterday. Will you hold this flashlight so I can see.” He turned the pages. “I’ll read part of it to you.
“‘... Karl, my son, there are hundreds of talented boys who may or may not be as gifted as you. Everyone cannot get scholarships. There just aren’t enough. To be able to study with the best teachers, to do this without worries about money or part-time jobs—the freedom from such responsibilities often makes the difference between a mediocre player and a great one. And later one must be heard. Where is the money to come from in order to play before the right audiences? Write to Mr. Werther that you accept his generous offer.
“‘Put away your childish thoughts. Running up and down mountains! Friends are not so important. That can come later when you have the time for it.