"It is just the same with me," interrupted Annele. "I like to listen to music, but I have no skill; and besides, when there is so much to do in the house I have no time to myself, so there is no chance of my improving. I have entirely given up the piano; my father is very angry with me for it, for he spared no money, and made all his children learn music, but I think if you can't do a thing really well it is better to let it alone altogether; and then for people like myself, who know how to hear music though not to speak it, we have you and the instruments you make. If I were master in this house, I would buy your best organ from you, and not let any more go to Russia: I would have it in the public room, where it would amuse all the guests, and you would in this way receive plenty of orders. Since I was up at your house, no matter where I go, I have always ringing in my ears that pretty melody with the bells, from the 'Magic Flute.'" A pretty melody sounded in Lenz's ears also. He tried to explain to Annele that a person who had no true feeling for music, might indeed place the pegs in the instrument in the same order in which the notes were written; but that was not all; no, not even when attending to change of time as it was marked: where feeling does not exist, the instrument will never be anything better than a barrel-organ. A person playing of his own accord makes the Piano slower and the Forte quicker; and a similar effect must be obtained by the mechanism of the instrument, but those shades in the time must be delicately managed. Though the _forte_ should be well marked, the instrument having so much stress on it already, in the _fortissimo_ a reinforcement of power should be given. Annele listened to him with a very intelligent face, and at last said: "I am very much obliged to you for giving me all these details. If some people knew that you had been telling me all this, they might be jealous." At these words Lenz passed his hands across his eyes, and said: "Annele, may I venture to ask you a question?" "Yes, I would tell you anything." "Don't take it amiss; but is it true that you are as good as betrothed to the Techniker?" "Thank you for asking me that in a straightforward way. There, you have my hand as a pledge that there is not a word of truth in it;--there is nothing between us." Lenz held her hand fast, and said: "May I ask you one thing more?" "Ask whatever you choose, you shall have an honest answer." "Tell me why your manner is so different to me when Pilgrim is present? have you and he had any quarrel?" "May this be poison that I am drinking if I don't tell you the truth," said Annele, taking up Lenz's glass and sipping out of it; though Lenz assured her that there was no need of such strong asseverations--he could not bear them.