Anna To The Infinite Power by Mildred Ames Read Free Book Online

way he’ll get it is to demand it, stop being so self-effacing.”
    “And I keep telling you, Sarah, that the viola is a supporting instrument, a role that takes every bit as much skill and, at least for me, is even more gratifying than playing first violin.”
    “You just don’t understand the workings of an orchestra, Mom,” Rowan said. “If a violist played too loudly or too anything, he could throw the whole string section off. Every violist in the conservatory symphony has to deal in the kind of subtleties that I don’t when I play first violin. Why, the violists have the power to upset the whole social structure of an orchestra.”
    Anna saw her father wink at Rowan as he said, “You see, Sarah, you have it all wrong. The real power lies with me. It’s got to say something for my social consciousness that I haven’t used that power badly so far.”
    Michaela said, “That’s a very good thing to have -- social consciousness.”
    Sarah Hart, in a manner that implied that if there was any social consciousness among present company, she had yet to see it, said, “Yes, it is. It certainly is.”
    Her husband ignored her to turn to their guest. “Some more tea, Michaela?”
    “Oh, thank you, Graham. It’s delicious.”
    He said, “After dinner I hope to coax you to play for us on that piano you were admiring in the living room a little while ago.”
    “On the Bechstein? Oh, I’d love to. I’ve been longing to try it.”
    “Good.”
    No, not good, Anna thought. Bad. Once more she remembered the strange music and a feeling of terror ran through her. What if the woman played that awful piece again?
    Anna’s fears were unjustified, however. Michaela played a Bach prelude and fugue. The woman had chosen one of Graham Hart’s favorites, almost as if she had known that was the case. But, of course, she couldn’t have, Anna thought. What was even more irritating was the fact that Anna herself had tried to but had never mastered the piece to the satisfaction of either Rowan or her father. And there she went again, thinking of him as her father. Look at him, sitting there drinking in that woman’s playing, looking as pleased as he would over a perfect soufflé, Anna thought disgustedly. And Rowan was no better. He acted like a little kid listening to a fairy tale. Anna, bored, sulked through the whole performance.
    When Michaela finished, Graham Hart declared enthusiastically, “That has got to be as lovely as the song of the sirens.”
    To Anna’s further annoyance, Rowan said, “You see, Anna, that’s the way that piece should be played.”
    Graham Hart picked right up on the words. “Yes, Anna. I hope you’ve learned something tonight.” She shrugged indifferently.
    “Oh, it’s Anna who plays this wonderful instrument,” Michaela said, running her hands lovingly over the gleaming ebony.
    “She’s taken lessons since she was a little thing,” Sarah Hart said.
    “And I’m not at all pleased with her progress under her present teacher,” Graham Hart said. “She learned quickly enough in the beginning, but she’s not developing as she should at this stage.”
    “Perhaps I could help,” Michaela offered. “I’ve often taught.”
    Anna went all cold inside. “I don’t need help. I’m not going to become a musician.”
    Graham Hart paid no attention to her. “That’s very kind of you, Michaela, but we couldn’t ask you to take the time --”
    “Oh, no problem,” she said quickly. “I have Saturday mornings free.”
    Before Anna knew what was happening, they had everything arranged. She would spend an hour every Saturday at Michaela’s apartment, starting the day after tomorrow. Anna was furious. She contained herself until the woman had gone. Then she said to Graham Hart, “You should have asked me, because I am absolutely not going to her house.”
    Sarah Hart said, “I don’t care for the woman myself.”
    He glanced from one to the other. “I really don’t understand either of