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his mind to speak this foreigner had been the means of preventing him. "Send him up please, Joles. I want you to meet Mr. Cruger, Herr Von Barwig," said Helene as she glanced at the card Joles handed her, and rose from the piano where she was taking a lesson. "I haven't seen him for days and days; I wondered what had become of him." Von Barwig noticed the heightened colour in Miss Stanton's cheeks and he made a mental note that he must like Mr. Beverly Cruger, too, yet, if the truth must be known, he felt a pang of regret. "She loves him," he said to himself, "she will forget me." "Shall we not continue the lesson?" he said aloud. Helene shook her head. "No more to-day," she said. "Then Miss Stanton will perhaps pardon my leaving," said Von Barwig. "On the contrary, Herr Professor, Miss Stanton insists on your remaining," said Helene, motioning him to a seat. Von Barwig bowed deferentially. "You have disappointed me to-day," he said. "Ach, your tempos change--like the winds! At one moment it is 6-8, the next 2-4, and almost in the same measure, you play 4-4. At one moment you play with your thumbs, like a little girl; at another, you play like a professional, an artist. I cannot understand it. Technically I don't know where you are. I am puzzled! I admit it; I am puzzled," and he looked at her in perplexed uncertainty. Helene's only answer was a ripple of laughter. She was beginning to enjoy her own cleverness in deceiving him, and his confusion endeared him to her more than ever. The greater his perplexity the more she sympathised with him. "Poor old gentleman," she thought, "It is downright wicked of me to deceive him. But what can I do? If I let him know I don't need his services he will not come." "I have made up my mind to bring you some simple exercises for our next lesson, Miss Stanton. No more Bach and unevenly played Beethoven!" said Von Barwig. "It is necessary that we begin at the beginning and work up. That's it! We begin all over again, at the very beginning, and work up to the top. Then you will have some style, some form, some technique that you can call your own." "Oh, dear, you're not going to make me play exercises, are you? Oh, Herr Von Barwig, dear Herr Von Barwig, please don't!" said Helene, with such a pleading accent that Von Barwig was compelled to smile. "It just serves me right," she thought. "I shall literally have to face the music," she said
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