Alma; or the story of a Little Music Mistress

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ALMA; OR. THE STORY OT A LITTLE MUSIC MISTRESS. ALMA; OR, THE STORY OF A LITTLE MUSIC MISTRESS. BY EMMA MARSHALL, Author of " The Court a?td the Cottage," "Life's Aftermath," " Under the Mendips" etc. "All darkness, as access of splendour known, All discord known as music's might ; One day, we hope to stand, our dark days done, All shining in God's Light." Autumn Swallows. — Ellice Hopkins. 3LsltttJon : SWAN SONNENSCHEIN, LOWREY & CO., PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 18S8. Butler & Tanner. The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. TO Mrs. ELLICOTT AND " ROSALIND," DISTINGUISHED MUSICIANS, AND TRUE LOVERS OF THE "HEAVEN-BORN GIF!," TO WHOM ALMA WOULD NOT HAVE APPEALED IN VAIN FOR SYMPATHY AND HELP, I DEDICATE HER STORY. CONTENTS. PAGE

Chapter I. Out In The Rain

The rain had been falling all day, and yet at five o'clock the clouds seemed to pour down even in a more relentless torrent upon the streets of Coppersmith, flooding the pavements with ceaseless little streams, and making the roads all but impassable with mud and mire. Rain! rain! Would it never cease ? Would Coppersmith be changed into Venice, as far as locomotion was concerned, or a city on piles, likethat of which Sir Arthur Helps has told us in " Realmah " ? For this day's rain was only one of many that had preceded it, and was, by the appearance of the sky on that dark October afternoon, likely to be one of many which should succeed it. z B ALMA, People in comfortable homes resigned them selves to their easy-chairs by the fire, with a novel or a newspaper, or piece of art needle work ; while the more energetic looked up arrears in correspondence, and wrote to their absent friends, making " the deluge " a pro minent topic.

Others who had a billiard-room resorted to it, to knock the balls about in an aimless fashion, just to pass away the long hours, which seemed so interminable. I need not say these people were of the rich and prosperous class in Coppersmith. But there never yet was weather bad enough to keep at home those who must work for their daily bread, — that strong incentive to all exer tion, which is so relentless in its claims, and cannot be set aside. The rich corn merchant, Mr. Barker, would have told you that he worked for his daily bread, when he rolled off in his comfortable carriage to his office that morning, bowing his head as he faced the driving rain between the steps of his own door and the steps of the carriage. His near neighbour in Cornwall Square, Dr. Law, would also tell you he worked for his living, — which, indeed, was true, — as he shut the door of his shabby brougham, and set off on a round amongst his patients — an ever-increasing number, swelled by the pro longed rainy season.

He had to work hard, — of that there could be no question, — for he had growing girls and boys, of all ages, to feed, clothe, and educate. And he often asked his wife, in that hopeless fashion which expects no answer, how was it all to be done ? Dr. Law had, like many others, been unfortu nate in speculation ; instead of doubling some hundreds, he had lost them. But Mrs. Law was a woman of expedients, and the doctor owed her much. She studied the subject of economy with a zeal and perse verance which few could rival and none sur pass, and she was very skilful in getting as much for her money as possible ; indeed, the results of her efforts in this direction were so amazing, that to many outsiders they might appear tradition, and not fact. Mrs. Law was, I must confess, the terror of grocers and linen-drapers and butchers alike.

She boasted that not a grain of rice or lump of sugar was ever wasted in her household, that old dresses were renovated so that they looked ALMA like new, and that her girls always presented an appearance which was at least suitable to the position they occupied ; and Mrs. Law thought a great deal of that position ! But the requirements of food and clothing were infinitely less pressing than those of edu cation. Mrs. Law found the school authorities far less amenable than the tradespeople, and not even the bait of four daughters could gain any great reduction in terms. The girls had, therefore, home education ; and Mrs. Law, after much toil and pains, suc ceeded in engaging a plain, homely, decayed gentlewoman to instruct her four daughters in English, French, and general literature. The tide has set in so strongly now-a-days for certificated mistresses and governesses, that governesses of the old governess class, to which Miss Browne belonged, are rapidly disappearing.

I am writing, however, of some fifteen or twenty years ago, when, although the higher education movement had begun, it had not developed into the wide-spread institutions of High schools for girls, which are to be found in almost every large town in the kingdom. Miss Browne belonged to a falling dynasty, which was even then felt to be shaken at the foundations. But she was faithful in little things, and taught her four pupils in Cornwall Square all she knew, and in the best way she knew it. She could not do more, and Mrs. Law was, on the whole, satisfied, and Miss Browne contented. She was a pale, faded-looking woman, who expected nothing bright or prosperous would ever come to her. There are many such women, who have no future, and but a dreary present. They are uncomplaining, and take the world as they find it, without murmuring.

Mrs. Law paid Miss Browne forty pounds a year for her services, and she always shared the luncheon or children's dinner. This meal was not a very sumptuous one, and far from tempt ing to the appetite ; but it told favourably on poor Miss Browne's exchequer, and enabled her to procure little delicacies in the shape of muffins and a tin of potted meat, which en riched the tea-table in her own little home, where, when her day's labours were over, she lived with a feeble old aunt, who provided her with a room and believed that she boarded her ALMA for twenty pounds a year, though in reality Miss Browne put a great deal more than that sum into the general fund. Undoubtedly Miss Browne had been very useful to Mrs. Law, and she considered herself very fortunate on the whole, except for one drawback.

Music was a necessity in education; all girls learned to play on the piano ; there were even some who were proficient on the violin. Every one could either play or sing who had any pretension to a good education ; and, alas ! Miss Browne could not teach music. Beyond a certain point of Henri Herz's finger exercises, and the airs, with a few bars of varia tion, in the instruction books, Miss Browne could not go ; and the music of the four Miss Laws was at a standstill. Coppersmith, it is true, was rich in musical advantages. The leading master there was Dr. Earle, whose fame went far beyond the great manufacturing city where he lived. But a guinea a lesson — or even at a reduction, fifteen shillings — was not to be thought of. Mrs. Law tried all her persuasive powers, both with him and a certain Herr Meyer and a Madame Juliette, but in vain.

These were undoubtedly the tip-top profes sors, and Mrs. Law hoped that some lower in the scale would be found to be more accommo dating. But she had to learn that what was worth hearing was worth paying for, and a few lessons given to the eldest of the four sisters, Joanna, by one of the less distinguished masters, was not altogether a success. Joanna Law stumbled hopelessly through a study of Heller's when called upon by her mother to play to a few friends ; and Maude, the second sister, thumped the keys so violently as she got through one of Beethoven's easy waltzes, that an old lady was seen to put her hands to her ears, and remark that Mrs. Law's piano had a very harsh tone ! Thus it became clear that music, as Mrs. Law understood or misunderstood the word, was a failure amongst her children ; and that great critic, Herbert, her eldest son, on whom many hopes were centred, told his mother that she had better leave music alone than get his sisters ill-taught.

Herbert Law was at Cambridge, and made economy, in the matter of his sisters' education, necessary. Joanna was not slow to remind ALMA, him of this, when he complained that her false notes were enough to send a fellow to the " other end of nowhere " to get beyond their reach. On the wet day of which I write, Mrs. Law was going over in her mind the difficulties which beset her. Her family was large and expensive ; for besides Herbert, there were three other sons to provide for. One was on the Worcester training ship, another at the Coppersmith Grammar School, and a third was still in knickerbockers, and attended a ladies' school for little boys. Miss Browne, however, was supposed to help him with his preparation from four to five in the afternoon, while his sisters were writing their exercises or transla tions from "L'lnstitutrice" or Madame de Stael's " Corinne."

Mrs. Law had dined out the night before with the doctor and her son Herbert. A daughter of the house, arrayed in white muslin, who had not actually come out, had played a difficult sonata so well that all the guests were loud in her praise. The mother, proud and pleased, had turned to Mrs. Law, and said : — "I daresay your eldest girl is a good musician by this time ? " And poor Mrs. Law, remembering her ex periences of Heller's study and Beethoven's waltz, said : — " My children are not nearly such good musicians as your daughter. Who is her master or mistress ? " " Dr. Earle has taught her irom quite a tiny child," was the reply ; " and I do not regret it, for music must be taught well, or not at all." Poor Mrs. Law sighed. Dr. Earle was so far beyond her reach ! And yet, in that social ladder of success up which she longed to see her girls climb, music was such an important factor !

" I wish I could hear of some one," Mrs. Law was inwardly saying on this dreary afternoon, when the praise of Ethel Barber's performance was still in her ears. " If it were not so hope lessly wet, I would really go and make one more attempt with Herr Meyer or Madame Juliette ; but it is a perfect deluge, and so bitterly cold." Mrs. Law was standing by one of the three large windows of her drawing-room in Cornwall Square. The balcony before her was a running pool, the water flowing off with a loud, con- ALMA tinuous rush. The boxes of some smoke-dried geraniums were turned into a muddy swamp. The resistless rain had even contrived to trickle through the crevice of the window-frame, and the Indian matting was saturated in one corner. Mrs. Law was seldom idle for a minute. To do her justice, she bore upon her shoulders the whole burden of the large household.

The good doctor was engrossed with his practice ; and saddened by his losses, for whicli he blamed himself severely, he was content to leave to his wife entire control of the house, the servants, and the children. He had unbounded confidence in her manage ment, and it was not misplaced. Mrs. Law looked well after her household, though some might think too well. Still, with her at the head of affairs, the doctor felt no great uneasi ness about school bills or butchers' bills. The sum set apart for these necessities of life was seldom exceeded, and the family lived in fair comfort. As Mrs. Law looked across Cornwall Square, she saw a gentleman, well protected against the weather by a mackintosh closely buttoned to the chin, and a large umbrella, with which he was sheltering, as far as shelter was possible, the figure of a girl by his side — a small, slight figure, scarcely reaching the shoulder of her protector.

Mrs. Law recognised in the gentleman the clergyman of the Parish Church, but who the girl could be she could not determine. She watched them skirt the pavement on the right side of the square, and then cross towards her own door. " They are coming here ! " she exclaimed. " What a day for Mr. Palmer to choose ! And who can he be bringing with him ? Yes, there is the bell. Perhaps he only wants to consult the doctor ; but of course he knows this is not his hour for seeing patients." Mrs. Law gave a hasty glance at the mirror over the chimney-piece — one of the gold framed mirrors of thirty years ago, before over mantels had taken their place. She straightened her cap, and then seated herself in an uncon cerned way by the fire, with her work-table at her side, and had just taken up a piece of needlework, when the door opened, and the maid announced, — " Mr. Palmer and Miss Montgomery."

Chapter II. Terms

Mrs. Law received Mr. Palmer with much warmth, and extended a friendly hand to Miss Montgomery. "It is very kind of you to call, I am sure, Mr. Palmer, and in such weather ! How is Mrs. Palmer ? " Mr. Palmer was not a demonstrative man ; he merely said, — " I am come on a matter of business, Mrs. Law. I think you want a music mistress for your four daughters, and I wish to introduce Miss Montgomery. She seems to me to be an accomplished musician, and devotes her self to an invalid mother and three little brothers, one of whom is blind. I think you cannot do better than arrange matters with Miss Montgomery." Mrs. Law's manner changed. In her secret heart she was delighted to think there was any TERMS 13 chance of getting a music mistress, probably at a conveniently small salary ; but she concealed her satisfaction, and turning to Alma, said, — " I have four daughters for whom I am anxious to obtain musical instruction, but I am in correspondence with Madame Juliette,— you know her name, of course."

" No," Alma said simply ; " I know no one in Coppersmith but Mr. Palmer. We are per fect strangers here." Mrs. Law's " Indeed I " was not encouraging. Somehow a chill seemed to creep over Alma ; her sweet, bright face clouded, and a sense of isolation and dependence made her eyes dim with tears ready to fall. If Mrs. Law had smiled, or if she had spoken in a sympa thetic voice, how differently Alma would have felt! Now the cold " Indeed !" went like ice to her heart. " And may I ask who your masters have been, Miss Montgomery ?" " I learned music from my father ; that is to say, he taught me my notes and arranged what I should study. But music has never been difficult to me. I think I can teach it." "You think!" Mrs. Law said, with a de- ALMA, precating smile at Mr. Palmer. " We must go a little beyond thinking.

Have you any testi monials ? " " I have a letter written by Mr. Lloyd, the organist of the church at Saint Briarswell, our old home. There it is ! " and Alma handed a letter to Mrs. Law, who glanced over it, and read what might well have satisfied any one as to Alma's ability as a musician. " Well, the matter requires consideration, Miss Montgomery ; and what terms do you propose to ask ? " Alma looked at Mr. Palmer. " How many lessons a week would you re quire, Mrs. Law ? " " One for each daughter, all to be given on their half-holidays — Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. Let us say Joanna and Maude on Wednesday, and Susie and Laura on Saturday. I wish for no division into terms, as it is the fashion now to say. The lessons must go on without interruption, except perhaps for a fort night in the summer.

Could you agree to this, Miss Montgomery, for a lump sum, say a year r " My dear Mrs. Law," interrupted Mr. Pal- TERMS. 15 mer, " that is much too little for Miss Mont gomery to accept. Twenty pounds a year for four hours a week ! Why, that is not 2s. 6d. a lesson ! " " Oh ! very well," said Mrs. Law, " then we must leave it for the present. Yes, we will leave it for the present, till I have seen Madame Juliette." The colour rose to Alma's face, and turning to Mr. Palmer, she said, — " I think I had better accept the offer. You know I must have a beginning, and teaching is new to me." The straightforward simplicity of this speech might have softened a harder heart than Mrs. Law's, but she professed not to hear what Alma was saying, and continued to repeat, — " We will leave the matter for the present.

If Mr. Palmer will give me your address, I will write." " I must say," Mr. Palmer began, "I think you will scarcely find a young lady more com petent " Here the door opened, and Joanna came into the drawing-room with her brother Her bert. ALMA " My eldest daughter," Mrs. Law said, ad dressing Mr. Palmer ; " you know Joan, and my son Herbert, soon about to return to Cam bridge. Were you at Trinity College, Mr. Palmer ? " " No," was the rather short answer, for Mr. Palmer had been asked that question before. " I was not at Cambridge." Mrs. Law did not introduce her son to Alma, but said to her daughter, — " Joanna, my love, this is Miss Montgomery, who teaches music, and we are considering whether we can arrange some lessons." Joan, who was a plain-featured girl of seven teen, with dark eyes and a face where a smile was seldom seen, bowed stiffly, with the air of superiority which some foolish girls affect when they consider themselves higher in the social scale than an acquaintance or neighbour ; while her brother, without waiting for an introduction, said in a pleasant, cheery voice to Alma, — ■ " I am sure my mother will be very glad to avail herself of your services ; she has been hunting for a music mistress for the last four years."

TERMS. 17 " My dear Herbert, how you exaggerate ! " exclaimed Mrs. Law. " Do play to us," Herbert said. " This is a wretched old piano, I am afraid," he continued, opening one of those ugliest of instruments, a square of Collard's, " but I am sure my mother and sister will like to hear you ;" and he added, "so shall I ; we do not get much music in this house." Alma looked at Mr. Palmer, as if to ask if she should play at Mr. Law's bidding. He understood the look, and said,- — - " Yes, an excellent idea, of course ; but I am very much engaged just now, and I fear I cannot wait very long, perhaps ten minutes." " Please wait," Alma said; and then, with the quiet simplicity which characterized her, she seated herself on the creaking music stool with its cross-stitch cover of various hues worked in Berlin wool, and taking off her neatly-buttoned black gloves, ran her fingers over the yellow keys.

The poor old piano seemed to wake as from a dream, and the loose keys rattled as the light touch passed over them. But presently the music hidden there, the spirit which had lain c ALMA so long silent, awoke, and the plaintive cry of Beethoven's sonata in E flat held Herbert at least spell-bound. " That is music," he thought ; " will she ever make Joan play like it ? " But when Alma ceased, Mrs. Law said, in her dry, unsympathetic voice, — " Something a little more lively now, Miss Montgomery ; that kind of music is not what takes in a drawing-room. Have you no waltz or air with variations ? " Something like an amused smile rippled over Alma's face, but she made no reply, merely striking a few sharp chords, and then playing with quick spirit a set of waltzes which were popular at that time.

When she ceased, Mrs. Law said, in a patron izing way, — ■ " Very nice, very pretty. Well, we shall come to terms, I hope, Miss Montgomery. I will write to you if you will leave me your address." "Write, mother! You had much better de cide now." " My dear Herbert, you are so impulsive. Older heads are wiser, as Mr. Palmer knows." TERMS, 19 Mr. Palmer, who was in haste to be gone, made no rejoinder to this, and very soon Alma and he were out again in the pitiless, ceaseless rain. " I think I ought to have closed at once with the offer Mrs. Law made me," Alma said ; "you know we are so poor." " The very reason why you should insist on getting adequate remuneration for your lessons, and I cannot advise you to accept anything less than thirty pounds a year." " I hope I shall get on with the teaching of the little boys at Mrs. Carter's school, and the girls at Miss Boyce's. I do not mind how much I do, if only I can get mother and the boys what they need."

" Well, this is my way," said Mr. Palmer, " so I will say good-bye. I only wish our visit had been more satisfactory." " Good-bye," Alma said, " and thank you very much for your kindness." Then she pursued her way through the rain and mire towards a back street, far from the more fashionable quarters of the town, where she lived with her mother and little brothers. ALMA. 20 Rusholme Street was like hundreds of streets to be found in every large town. The houses were all exactly alike, with their blank, unsmil ing fronts, and backs with " wings " off the staircase. Sunshine came to one side of Rus holme Street which faced south-west, and on that side Mrs. Granby let her furnished apart ments to quiet families. There was neither sunshine within nor with out to-day ; for as Alma ran up the stone steps to the door of No. 8, some one from the base ment looked up, and before she had time to ring a second time, the door was opened by Mrs. Granby herself.

Her portly figure nearly filled the narrow lobby, and her greeting showed that it was not altogether consideration for Alma and desire not to keep her in the rain on the steps that brought her from the lower regions. " It's you at last, then, Miss Montergomery ; a precious long time you have been gone, and I want to speak to you very particular, so step into my parlour before these children can catch hold of you." " I must take off my waterproof first," Alma said. " May I hang it up downstairs with my TERMS. 21 umbrella. It is not very wet. Mr. Palmer sheltered me till we parted." " Here, give 'em to me," said Mrs. Granby. " They are wet enough to bring in a flood." Mrs. Granby went to the top of the stairs and called Bessie, her niece and general ser vant of the house, saying, — " Take these here wet things and dry 'em ; if ever they are dry again it will be a miracle.

And now, Miss Montergomery, a word with you," Mrs. Granby said, closing the door of her little sitting-room, and dropping down upon a leathern chair by the fireless grate, till the springs creaked and the crochet chair-back flopped down with a scraping rattle. " I am sorry to say I must give you notice to quit, Miss Montgomery." Mrs. Granby always introduced that extra syllable in pronouncing Alma's name, and this time double emphasis was laid on it. " Yes, I am sorry, but I can't keep you ; that is, if I keep you, I lose him" and Mrs. Granby jerked her finger in the direction of the front parlour. " He has lived here and I have done for him for fifteen years. We have gone on quite comfortable, for we understand ALMA each other; but I never took children before, and that I did so at all was all along with Mr. Palmer's telling me I'd find them quiet.

Quiet! why, bless you, Miss Montergomery, they have rampaged up and down stairs this afternoon like wild things, and one toppled over and cut his head open." " Dear me ! " said Alma, " I must go up stairs at once ; pray do not detain me." " Don't be in a fluster now. I clapped a bit of ' daculum ' plaister on the place, and he is all right." " Which boy was it ? " Alma asked. " The youngest of the two — the little Turk that he is. Well now, Miss Montergomery, I'll try and keep you a month, and then you can look about. I can't go and turn you out of a heap, and you always behave like a lady, that I'll say for you, and I said so to him, and that you had an invalid mother and three little brothers all depending on you, and that you had lost your poor papa, and had nothing in the world except your piany ; and he said, 'It is not the "piany" I object to — quite the contrary; it's the brats;' and I can't say I think him unreasonable."

TERMS. 23 " No," poor Alma said. " I will try to keep them quieter, and Percy and Teddy are to go to school on Monday. I am to teach a class of Mrs. Carter's little boys in return for their schooling, and I hope I have got another situa tion, so that I shall be able to pay for the little boys to have their dinner at school ; then the house will be much quieter." Here a loud tapping of a stick against the wall was heard, and Mrs. Granby hastily left Alma to attend to " him." For she never gave her lodger a name, it was " him " and " he " al ways ; and Alma lived in the same house for many weeks before she knew the name of the mysterious lodger in the parlour. Alma had said truly that she was a perfect stranger in Coppersmith. When her father's long illness ended two months before, she had been advised to remove her mother and little brothers to the large manufacturing city, where she was likely to improve her own taste and execution in music, and obtain work as a teacher.

The rector of Briarswell had written to Mr. Palmer, who was a relation of his, and asked him to befriend Mrs. Montgomery, and recom- ALMA, mend her and her children to a comfortable and respectable lodging. This Mr. Palmer had done, and had exerted himself to obtain the teaching at the two schools for Alma, and now, as we have seen, introduced her to Mrs. Law, the wife of the worthy doctor who at tended his wife, who was a chronic and some what complaining invalid. Mr. Palmer was a downright practical man, to whom sentiment was weakness. He liked music so far as good hymn tunes were con cerned, and allowed the Psalms to be sung in his church in the evening, but he did not go further, nor profess to be delighted with music for its own sake. He was quite ready to help Alma if he could, but he simply considered it part of his daily work to answer the rector ot Briarswell's letter, and to say that he hoped he had put Alma in the right road to obtain that which she desired.

There are a great many people like Mr. Pal mer, who do not season their kind deeds with the sauce of sympathy, and this is why the gratitude we ought to feel for service does not spring up as freely or as naturally as it ought. A smile, a tender tone in the voice, the touch TERMS, 25 of a kindly hand, the words, " I understand ; " how sweet they are ! I believe there are a great number of people who would rather be felt with than felt for, who gauge the value of what is done by the manner in which it is done, rather than by the magnitude of the deed itself. Sympathy makes all the difference.

Chapter III. Brothers

A chorus of little voices greeted Alma as she opened the sitting-room door, and Ted's wound was displayed as if it had been an honourable scar obtained in battle. " They have been very noisy, I'm afraid," their mother said in a faint, deprecating voice. " We only chased the black cat downstairs, Alma, indeed that was all ; and he is a dreadful thief." " I shouldn't have ' felled,' " said Ted, regard less of grammar, — " I shouldn't have 'felled,' if Percy hadn't pushed me." " Oh, what a story ! " Percy exclaimed. "Hush!" said Alma peremptorily. "If you all talk at once, how am I to hear what you say ? " "No, do be quiet!" exclaimed Mrs. Mont gomery. " I want to know what you have decided, Alma." BROTHERS. 27 Nothing, mother," said Alma sharply. Have you seen the lady, Alma ?" " Yes, I have seen Mrs. Law ; but she tried to beat me down in my terms, and Mr. Palmer would not allow me to close with such an offer."