In the meantime, on several occasions I sat Gertrude down in front of the little organ in our chapel, which was normally played by Mlle de la M… Louise de la M… had not yet begun to give music lessons to Gertrude. Despite the love I have for music, I do not know much about it, and I felt that I was not capable to teach her anything when I sat next to her in front of the keyboard.

 

“No, let me,” she said as I began to gropingly try to play. “I prefer to try to do it alone.” And I left her gladly since the chapel did not appear to be a decent place for me to be alone with her, not so much for respect of the sacred place, but for fear of gossipers which I ordinarily forced myself not to pay attention to. But this activity was more about her than it was about me. Whenever my pastoral visits called me in this direction, I would take her to the church and leave her alone, often for long hours, and then go to pick her up upon my return. She worked patiently to discover different sound combinations, and I would find her in the evening being attentive to some harmony that had plunged her into an extended delight.

 

On one of the first days of August after a little more than six months of this, not having found a poor widow at home to whom I was going to give consolation, I went back to the church to get Gertrude where I had left her. She had not expected me so early, and I was extremely surprised to find Jacques next to her. Neither one nor the other had heard me enter, because the small amount of noise that I made was covered up by the sounds of the organ. It is not in my nature to spy, but anything that concerned Gertrude touched my heart. Muffling the noise of my feet, I furtively climbed the several steps of the stairway which led to the forum, which was an excellent observation post. I must say that for all the time that I remained there, I did not hear one or the other of them speak a word. But he was next to her, and on several occasions I saw him take her hand to guide her fingers over the keys. Was it not strange that she was accepting from him observations and direction that she had told me previously she preferred to do by herself? I was quite surprised and then hurt more than I would have wanted to confess to myself, and I already decided to intervene when I saw Jacques suddenly look at his watch.

 

“It is time for me to leave you,” he said “because my father will return soon.”

 

I then saw him hold her hand up to his lips, and then he left. Several instants later, having climbed down noiselessly on the stairway, I opened the door of the church in a way that she could hear it and believe that I was just entering.

 

“Oh good, Gertrude! Are you ready to go home? Did you enjoy the organ?”

 

“Yes, very much,” she said to me in the most natural voice. “I really made some progress today.”

 

A great sadness filled my heart, but neither one of us ever made allusion to what I just described.

 

It was some time before I was alone with Jacques. My wife, Gertrude, and the children went to bed soon after dinner, as they usually did, and the two of us were left alone. I was waiting for this moment. But before I could speak to him I felt my heart swell up with troubled feelings, and I did not know how to bring up the subject that was tormenting me. And then he brusquely broke up the silence by announcing to me his decision to spend all of his vacation with us. For, only a few days earlier, he told us about his plans to travel through the High Alps, and my wife and I both strongly approved of this. I knew that my friend T…, whom he had chosen to be his companion on the trip, would be expecting him. It also clearly appeared to me that this sudden change was certainly tied to the scene that I had been surprised by in the church. A great indignation came over me at first, but I feared that if I acted emotionally that my son would be eternally angry with me. I also feared that I would regret saying harsh words, so I made a great effort to control myself and said, in the most natural voice that I could,

 

“I believe that T… is counting on you.”

 

“Oh!” he responded, “He is not counting on me absolutely, and it will not be difficult for him to replace me. I can rest just as well here as in the high country, and I really believe that I can employ my time better here than by walking through the mountains.”

 

“So,” I said, “have you found something here to keep you busy?”

 

He looked at me, perceiving some irony in the tone of my voice, but, not yet knowing my motivation, he said casually,

 

“You know that I always preferred reading to watching the animals in the mountains.”

 

“Yes, my friend,” I said while staring directly at him, “but do you not believe that organ lessons are more attractive to you than reading?”

 

Without doubt he felt himself blushing, for he put his hand in front of his forehead as if he were blocking the glare of a lamp. But he quickly recomposed himself and said in a voice that I would have wished to be less self-assured,

 

“Do not accuse me of too much, my father. My intention is not to hide anything from you, and you have gotten ahead of the words that I was getting ready to tell you.”

 

He spoke deliberately, like one reads a book, completing his words with so much calmness, it seemed that they were coming out by themselves. The extraordinary self-control that he displayed exasperated me. Sensing that I was going to interrupt him, he raised his hand as if to say, no, you can speak afterwards. Let me first continue.