"It is of no consequence, for the Chevalier told us your master, Aronach, told him that your voice was like your violin, but that it would not do to tell you so, because you might lose it, and your violin, once gained, you could never lose." "That is true; but how very kind of him to say so! He need not have been afraid, though, for all I am so fond of singing. Perhaps he was afraid of making me vain." Anastase caught me up quickly. "Carl, do not speak nonsense. No musicians are vain; no true artists, ever so young: they could no more be vain than the angels of the Most High!" "Well said, Florimond!" cried Maria, in a moment. "But it strikes me that many a false artist, fallen-angel like, indulges in that propensity; so that it is best to guard against the possibility of being suspected, by announcing, with free tongues, the pride we have in our art." "That is better to be announced by free fingers, or a voice like thine, than by tongues, however free; for even the false prophet can prate of truth." I perceived now the turn they were taking; so I said, "And do miracles in the name of music too, sir, can't they?--like Marc Iskar, who, I know, is not a true artist, for all that." Anastase raised his brows. "True artists avoid personalities: that is the reason why we should use our hands instead of our tongues. Play a false artist down by the interpretation of true music; but never cavil, out of music, about what is false and true." "Florimond, that is worthy to be your creed! You have mastery; we are only children." "And children always chatter,--I remember that; but it is, perhaps, scarcely fair to blame those who own the power of expression for using it, when we feel our own tongue cleave to the roof of our mouth." "So generous, too!" I thought; and the thought fastened on me. I felt more than ever satisfied that all should remain as it was between them. FOOTNOTE: [4] Mendelssohn wrote the "Son and Stranger" in 1829 for the silver wedding of his parents. CHAPTER V.[5]