It was a Lover and his Lass. Oliphant Margaret

It was a Lover and his Lass - Oliphant Margaret


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see how they behave. But a clergyman has such a difficulty in getting away, unless he really falls ill, or something of that kind; and it would be going too far, you know, to wish for that. I think myself sometimes that I see signs of overwork, but Mr. Seton will not hear of it – he just will not hear of it. Katie, Katie, that's a great deal too quick. Do you not think that was too fast, Mr. Murray? Dear, dear! you must always count, you must not trust to your ear; and don't be so strong upon the pedals, Katie. That was a little better. Take care of the time, and the tune will take care of itself. La – la – la-la-la – la," sang the anxious mother, accompanying with waving hand and head the somewhat uncertain performance.

      Lewis was so sympathetic that he was quite conscious of Katie's indignation, and shamefacedness, and blinding embarrassment, as well as of the humour of her mother's remarks, which ran on all the time. He got up after a little while and went and stood behind the young performer.

      "Don't be frightened," he said, in an undertone. "If you will play more slowly, and not lose your head, you will do very well. I used to lose my head, too, and make a dreadful mess of it when I was your age."

      "I mean to stop at the end of the first bit," said Katie, in the same undertone, with a defiant glance. "As you did the other day."

      "At the end of the andante?" said Lewis. "Yes, that will be best."

      The girl looked up at him this time with astonishment. It is one thing to say that you intend to break off in a performance, but quite another when your audience acquiesces in this rebellion.

      "I thought you were so fond of it," Katie could not help saying, with a little pique. So fond of it that he would have liked to prolong her performance! Lewis laughed inwardly, but outside preserved his decorum.

      "When you play without your will, it is no longer in harmony," he said. "However you may be correct, it will never sound so. When you take away the consent of the heart, the chords do not strike just – you understand?"

      Katie stared at him, while her fingers stumbled over the keys. She was profoundly astonished, but she was not stupid, and more or less the girl did understand.

      They were left to each other, while Mrs. Seton rose to receive a visitor, and Lewis seized the opportunity of the first break to substitute conversation for music. He gave her a ludicrous account of himself in the rain.

      "If you had seen me, you would have despised me," he said. "How glad I am we met only in the village, and not on the river-side! When I met you I was like one of the fowls, with all my feathers drooping, don't you know, longing to get under a cart, as they did."

      "Oh, Mr. Murray!" cried Katie, with a broken giggle. She had thought so, but to assent to this description of himself was quite against the code of morals inculcated at the manse.

      "Oh, it is very true," said Lewis, with his cordial laugh. "You scoffed at my umbrella, but when it is wet one always carries an umbrella where I come from. Ah, but there was worse than the umbrella, Miss Katie. Is it permitted that I should say Miss Katie?"

      "Oh, yes," said Katie, with a little blush – "everybody does it here: though I am the eldest," she added, with a little dignity.

      "Abroad," said Lewis, with the smile which he always permitted himself when he used that vague term, "we say mademoiselle, or Fräulein, or signorina. I know that miss is a little different in English. But I wander from my subject. When I got to the river, I felt what you call small, Miss Katie. There was Stormont in the middle of the stream – he I thought a little languid the other day, not taking much interest – "

      "Oh, but that, is a mistake," cried Katie, with a vivid blush; "it is just that we're quiet in Scotland – we think quiet manners the best. Oh, he takes a great interest – " and here she stopped embarrassed; for why, indeed, should she take upon herself to respond for young Stormont? She gave an anxious glance at Lewis, lest he should laugh, or perhaps indulge in a little banter on the subject, which was not foreign to the manners of the countryside. But Lewis was perfectly serious, and answered her with the air of a judge.

      "Of course, I was mistaken in that. There he was in the middle of the river, like a young Hercules, glowing and fresh, while I was so sodden and drooping. If you had heard me laugh at myself! 'What a poor creature you are!' I said, 'not fit for this robust country at all, thinking that your feet will get wet, that the grass is soaking, while he is there enjoying himself – actually enjoying himself!'"

      "Oh, yes," cried Katie, proud and pleased, "it was grand for the fishing. He had such a basket of fish. One was seven pounds, they said. Mr. Stormont called on his way home just to tell papa what sport he had had," she added in explanation, "and that was how I know."

      Lewis was not insensible to the fact that to call at the manse, which was on the right side of the river, on his way to the Tower, which was on the left, was a peculiar short cut for young Stormont to make: but he accepted every detail with perfect gravity.

      "I," he said, with his apologetic air and his cheerful laugh at himself, "basely took advantage of Adam's skill, and got some of his fish to carry to the Castle. I did not pretend I had caught them myself – I was not quite so base as that. But Adam, too, how much he was my superior! To see him there, all brown and strong, casting his rod, the rain raining upon him, and little brooks running off his hat and his clothes. How shall I make myself like that, Miss Katie? I am only a carpet knight – I am not good for anything here."

      "Oh, Mr. Murray!" repeated little Katie. She was shocked with herself not to be able to find something consolatory, something gratifying to say. At length she ventured, timidly and against her conscience, to bring forward arguments in his defence against himself. "You can play such beautiful music, such hard things – and no gentleman hereabouts can do that; and you know a great many languages."

      "That is no credit to me," Lewis said. "I could not help learning them – when I was a child and knew no better," he added, with a laugh.

      "We are awfully backward in languages," Katie said. "We had a German governess for a while, but I never could learn it. And as for the gentlemen, they never try. After all, it is not so much wanted, do you think, unless you sing, to teach you how to pronounce the words? that is what mamma says. If you sing, you must learn how to say your words; they are always either Italian or German, or at the least French."

      "That is very important," said Lewis, gravely; "and perhaps to know what the words mean: that would help you to the appropriate expression."

      "Oh, I don't mind so much about that," said Katie; "it's rather old-fashioned to put expression into them. Mamma is old-fashioned; she gives her head a little nod, and she turns it like this, and she smiles at the funny parts – I don't mean really funny, you know, for of course she never sings comic songs, but at the parts where you would smile if you were talking. But you don't do that now; it is quite old-fashioned, my music-mistress says."

      "Oh, it is quite old-fashioned?" said Lewis.

      "Quite. Miss Jean is ever worse than mamma. Sometimes you would think she was going to cry. Perhaps you never heard her sing? Oh, it is only the old Scotch things she sings; but some people think a great deal of them. Mamma sings them sometimes too, I don't care for them myself. What I should like best would be the German, if you were quite sure that you pronounced the words right."

      "So far as that goes, I might perhaps be of use."

      "Oh, would you, Mr. Murray? That would be so very kind. If I only knew how to pronounce them right, I would not care for anything else."

      "Not this morning, Miss Katie; but you might be singing something you would not like to utter – "

      Katie looked at him for a moment with surprise, then she added, lightly,

      "What could it matter? Nobody understands."

      By this time several callers had arrived, and Mrs. Seton's monologue, with occasional interruptions, was heard from the other end of the room. Mrs. Stormont was one of the visitors, and Miss Jean another; but, though the former lady was a formidable obstacle, the quickly-flowing tide of speech from the minister's wife carried all before it.

      "Oh, yes, yes," she said, "that's just what I always say. If it's not good for the country in one way, it is in another; it


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