Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl Part 30

"May I play as loud as I like, and as soft as I like?"

"Certainly. You may play exactly as you please; only play with all your heart. You will be taught scientific music doubtless; but I want to know what you can do without education, at present."

Nora sat down. At first she felt a little shy, and all her surroundings were so strange, the piano was so big; she touched it with her small, taper fingers, and it seemed to her that the deep, soft notes were going to overpower her. Then she looked at Miss Goring and felt uncomfortable; but she touched the notes again, and she began to forget the room, and Miss Goring, and the grand piano; and the soul of music stood in her eyes and touched the tips of her fingers. The music was quite uncla.s.sical, quite unconventional; but it was music--a wild kind of wailing chant--the notes of the Banshee itself. Nora played on, and the tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

"Oh, it hurts so!" she said at last, and she looked full up at Miss Goring. Behold, the cold, gray eyes of the English teacher were also full of tears.

"You terrify me," she said. "Where did you hear anything like that?"

"That is the wail of the Banshee. Shall I play any more?"

"Nothing more so eerie."

"Then may I sing for you?"

"Can you sing?"

"I was never taught; but I think I can sing." Nora struck a few chords again. She sang the pathetic words, "She is Far from the Land," and Miss Goring felt the tears filling her eyes once more.

"Upon my word!" she said, as she led her pupil back to the schoolroom, "you can play and you can sing; you have music in you. It would be worth while to give you good lessons."

Nora's musical education was now taken up with vigor. Miss Goring spoke to Miss Flowers about it, and Miss Flowers communicated with Mrs.

Hartrick; and Mrs. Hartrick was extremely pleased to find that she had a musical genius in her midst, and determined to give that same musical genius every chance. Accordingly, the very best master in the school arranged to give Nora lessons, and a mistress of striking ability took her also in hand. Nora's wild music, the music that came from her heart, and the song that bubbled from her lips, were absolutely silenced. She must not sing at will; she must on no account play at will. The dullest of exercises were given to her for the purpose of molding her fingers, and the dullest of voice exercises were also given to her for the purpose of molding her voice. She struggled against the discipline, and hated it. She was essentially a child of nature, and this first putting on of the chains of education was the reverse of pleasant.

"Oh, Molly," she said, "what is the good of singing those hateful, screaming exercises, and those scales? They are too detestable, and those little twists and turns. My fingers absolutely feel quite nervous.

What is the use? What is the use?"

Molly also sighed and said, "What is the use?" But then the musical mistress and the great master looked at Nora all over when she made similar remarks, and would not even vouchsafe to answer.

"Father would never be soothed with that sort of music," she said. "I think he would be very glad we had not a good piano. Oh, Molly, what does it all mean?"

"I don't know," said Molly. "It's like all other education, nothing but grind, grind; but I suppose something will come of it in the long run."

"What are you talking about, girls?" said Mrs. Hartrick, who just then appeared upon the scene. "Nora, I am pleased; to get very good reports of your music."

"Oh!" said Nora, "I am glad you have come, Aunt Grace; and I shall be able to speak to you. Must I learn what takes all the music out of me?"

"Silly child. There is only one road to a sound musical education, and that is the road of toil. At present you play by ear, and sing by ear.

You have talent; but it must be cultivated. Just believe that your elders know what they are about."

Nora did not say anything. Mrs. Hartrick, after looking at her gravely for a moment, continued her gentle walk round the shrubbery. Molly uttered a sigh.

"There's no good, Nora," she said. "You'll have to go through with it. I suppose it is the only way; but it's hard to believe it."

"Well, at any rate, I enjoy other things in my school life," said Nora.

"Miss Goring is so nice, and I quite love Miss Flowers; and, after all, I am in your form, Molly, and we do like doing our lessons together."

"To be sure we do; life is quite a different thing for me since you have come here," was Molly's retort.

"And you have been very good indeed about your naughty words, you know,"

said Nora, nestling up to her cousin.

"Have I? Well, it's owing to you. You see, now, I have someone to help me--someone to understand me."

"Ah!" said Nora; "but I won't be here very long."

"Not here very long! Why, you must. What is the use of beginning school and then stopping it?"

"School or no school, my place is by father's side. It is a long, long time since we heard from Uncle George. As soon as ever he comes back I go."

"Father has been a whole month in Ireland now," said Molly. "I cannot imagine what he is doing. I think mother fidgets rather. She has very long letters from him, and----"

"And, do you know," said Nora, "that father has not written to me once--no, not once since Uncle George went over? I am absolutely in the dark."

"I wonder you stand it," said Molly. "You are so impetuous. I cannot imagine why you don't fly back."

"I could not," said Nora.

"Could not? What is there to hinder you?"

"I have given my word."

"Your word? To whom?"

"To your father. He went to Ireland to please me."

"Oh, did he? That's exciting," said Molly. "Father went to Ireland to please a little chit like you. Now, what does this mean?"

"It means exactly what I have said. He went because I begged him to; because I explained things to him, and he said he would go. But he made a condition, and I am bound to stick to my part of it."

"And that was----How your eyes s.h.i.+ne, Nora!"

"That was, that I am to stay patiently here, and get as English as ever I can. Oh! I must stick to my part of the bargain."

"Well, I cannot say you look very happy," said Molly, "although you are such a favorite at the school. If I was not very fond of you myself I should be jealous. If I had a friend whom I really wors.h.i.+ped, before you appeared on the scene, it was Stephanotie Miller, the American girl."

"Oh, isn't she charming?" said Nora. "She makes me laugh. I am sure she has Irish blood in her."

"Not a bit of it; she's a Yankee of the Yankees."

"Well, she has been sent to school to get tame, just as I have been,"

said Nora; "but I don't want you to lose her friends.h.i.+p. After all, I care very little for anyone in the school but you, Molly; only Stephanotie makes me laugh."

"We'll have her to tea tomorrow. I'll run in now and ask mother. I shan't mind a bit if you are not going quite to take her from me. After all, she can be friends with both of us. I'll run into the house this moment, and ask mother if we may have Stephanotie to tea."

Molly rushed into the house. Her mother was seated in the morning room, busily writing.

"Well, my dear, well?" she said. "I hear you--you need not bang the door. What is it, Molly?"