Page 137 (1/1)
"Say," interrupted Mrs Challoner, turning toso well, would it be asking you too lanced at the grand piano, which occupied a corner of the salon where we sat, and hesitated But at a slight nod froloves, and seated htly over the keys, I wandered through a few running passages; and as I did so, murmured a brief petition to my aerial friend Aeon Scarcely had I done this, when a flood of ers, and I played, hardly knohat I played, but ive utterance to the sounds which were falling softly uponlike drops of summer rain on a thirsty soil I was just aware that I was threading the labyrinth of a minor key, and that the result was a network of delicate and tenderhtingale sing? A beautiful silken voice--a web of happy notes--and led and tortured thereby"
A few minutes, and the inner voice that conversed with me so sweetly, died away into silence, and at the sa chord As one awaking froroup of friendly listeners were rapt in the deepest attention; and when I ceased, a listened with sympathetic tears
"How can you do it?" asked Mrs Challoner in good-natured amazement "It seems to me impossible to co previous thought!"
"It is not MY doing," I began; "it seems to come to ently warned me not to hastily betray the secret of my spiritual communion with the unseen sources of harreat rejoicing, for I knew that however well I had played in past days, it was nothing coiven toof the storehouse of music, with freedom to take my choice of all its vast treasures
"Well, it's what WE call inspiration," said Mr Challoner, giving rasp; "and wherever it coreat happiness to yourself as well as to others"