"Yet it seems to me to be natural to put the third finger there. Are you discouraged?" "Try the second finger once or twice, this way;" and he played a few notes. "Discouraged? no; I am willing to keep at it for an indefinite period." "Yes, I see that it is better. You must succeed. I was three months at it before I discovered any thing." "That passage is _allegro_, and you played it _andante_. I wish you would give me a faint hint as to the way in which you deciphered it." "I did not notice the directions," responded Miss Krieff, playing the passage over again. "Will that do? No, I will give no hint. You would only imitate me then, and I wish you to find out for yourself on your own principle." "Yes, that is much better. But I have no principle to start on, and have not yet found out even how to begin." "I must pay more attention to 'expression,' I see. You say my 'time' is correct enough. If you are not discouraged, you will find it out yet." "Your 'time' is perfect. If it is possible, I will find it out. I am not discouraged." "Well, I will hope for something better the next time, and now don't speak about it any more. The 'brat' is listening." "_Allegro_, _allegro_; remember, Miss Krieff. You always confound _andante_ with _allegro_." "So I do. They have the same initials." Such was the nature of Gualtier's musical instructions. These communications, however, were brief and hurried, and only served to deepen the intimacy between them. They had now mutually recognized themselves as two conspirators, and had thus become already indispensable to one another. They waited patiently, however, and at length their patient waiting was rewarded. One day Gualtier came and found that Zillah was unwell, and confined to her room. It was the slightest thing in the world, but the General was anxious and fidgety, and was staying in the room with her trying to amuse her. This Miss Krieff told him with her usual bitterness. "And now," said she, "we will have an hour. I want to know what you have done." "Done! Nothing." "Nothing?" "No, nothing. My genius does not lie in that direction. You might as well have expected me to decipher a Ninevite inscription. I can do nothing." "Have you tried?" "Tried! I assure you that for the last month the only thing that I have thought of has been this. Many reasons have urged me to decipher it, but the chief motive was the hope of bringing to you a complete explanation." "Have you not made out at least a part of it?" "Not a part--not a single word--if there are words in it--which I very much doubt." "Why should you doubt it?"