"Will you pardon me, madam, that I did not hear you when you did me the honour to address me?" I said.
"I merely regretted that your flute played false a few minutes ago, and prevented me from the pleasure of hearing its accompaniment. It seems a beautiful instrument. I suppose the keys are very apt to get out of order?"
"Yes; and the slightest tremor in hand or breath is fatal."
"Of course, that holds good in all musical performances. Have you professed music long?"
"Not long."
"It requires immense practice to excel in it—longer time and harder study than would make a first classman at Oxford, I have heard it said; and, after all, the reward of it is very poor."
I sat horror-struck. Did the girl recognise me, and twit me with the profession I had chosen, as well as the career I had refused?
"No profession is poorly paid," I replied, "that brings with it independence and self-respect."
"O, surely not. Do you give lessons?"
"No."