The beloved of William glanced at Charley and bit her lip. Somehow it seemed comic to every one that Charley should be in love.
Then Billy, folding his arms across his deep chest, and summoning his mind to a vast generalization: “The fact is, everybody is a goner,” said he; “as for me—”
His girl placed her finger upon her rosy lip, and reproved his chattering with a frown that was very, very fierce; but from beneath her darkling brows there stole, as she raised her eyes to his manly face, a glance soft as the breath of violets from under a hedge of thorns.
The allegro moderato came to an end with the usual twang twing twang.
“Unt we came out all togedder!” exclaimed the Herr. “Dot is someding already. Shentlemen und ladies, I tell you a little story, vot you call. Berlioz was once leading an orchestra, part professionals, part amateurs. Ven dey vas near de ent of de stucke vot you call morceau, ‘Halt, shentlemens!’ cry Berlioz, rapping on the bulbit-desk, vot you call. ‘Now, shentlemens amateurs,’ says he, ‘you just stop on dis bar unt let de oders blay, so dat we all come out togedder.’”
The excellent Herr, after laughing himself to the verge of asphyxiation, explained that “Berlioz, you unterstant, vas a great vit, vat you call, unt make many funny words.” It was a peculiarity of our friend Waldteufel that his pronunciation of English varied with the amount of water that he had neglected to drink; and as this was an uncertain quantity, you could never be quite sure whether he would say vas or was, words or vords. At certain critical moments, too, when his soul stood vascillating between contentment and thirst, the two systems were apt to become mixed as above. I will add that I make no attempt at accuracy in reproducing his dialect, preferring to leave that, in part at least, as I have done in a parallel case, to the resources of the reader.
The remaining movements of the quintet were played in somewhat smoother style; but the only one requiring special mention, for our purposes, was the larghetto, or slow movement. In this number, the technical difficulties of which were inconsiderable, Lucy’s tender religious spirit revealed itself most touchingly. It so happened that the composer had placed this part mainly in the hands of the piano and the first violin, the other instruments merely giving an unobtrusive accompaniment. First the violin gave out the theme, and then the piano made reply.
“It is the communing of two spirits,” felt Mary, in her imaginative way.
Now the piano gave forth its tender plaint, and the violin seemed to Mary to listen; at one time silent, at another interrupting,—assenting rather,—breaking into low-muttered interjections of harmonious sympathy. And then the violin would utter its lament, finding its echo in the broken ejaculations that rose from beneath Lucy’s responsive fingers; so, at least, it seemed to Mary.
The quintet and the congratulations to the performers over, Mr. Whacker took pity on the thirsty Herr and ordered refreshments. Jones, finding among the rest a glass of double size, filled it and handed it to the ’cellist.