"I would not."
"And would you conduct yourself with circumspection and decorum while in public? That is very important, you know."
"I would."
Every muscle in Janice's body was quivering with tension, and her heart was pounding madly as Lisa looked at her searchingly. The silence seemed to be interminable. Lisa finally nodded and looked down at the table. "I shall return as soon as I am able to see how your studies are progressing," she said quietly, and Janice released her pent-up breath with a burst. "If anyone need know, I have assumed the prerogatives of mentor of your education." She tugged a ring off her finger and slid her chair back, leaning over the table to drop it in front of Janice with a heavy thump. It was a massive garnet with an enameled coat of arms laid into the stone. "There is a token of my guardianship. It is the Grevenburg arms. Wear it and let it serve to remind you to work hard at your studies."
Janice slid the heavy ring onto her first finger; it was a good fit, and the setting almost covered the distance between her knuckles. "It is a beautiful ring. I wish I had something to give you."
"If you will give me your loyalty, it will be a gift beyond measure. Now we shall not discuss this subject further, and if you threaten me again you shall find that the reputation of the Grevenburg family for having a violent temper is based on fact. You may accompany me to the airport tonight, and you shall not be demonstrative when we part. In the meantime, we shall discuss your career. What is your instrument?"
"Piano. I am sorry I threatened you, but I had to know…"
"You are forgiven. You shall study the violin in addition to the piano. You shall strive for perfection in the piano and for competence in the violin. Next year you shall study a woodwind, and the following year a wind."
"I would like to be a piano soloist."
"A symphony orchestra is comprised of musicians who desire to be soloists with their respective instruments. You shall strive for the virtuosity of a soloist in piano, and hopefully you will attain the competence of an orchestral musician. At the same time you shall study teaching, composition, and conducting, and hopefully you will discover the main thrust of your talent. You shall quickly discover that there are disadvantages to my being a mentor in your education, and the extent of the disadvantages will depend upon how lazy you are. You shall also discover that you will become a musician, and people who pay their money to hear you perform will not be disappointed." The door opened again, and the waiter pushed in a cart loaded with dishes. Lisa glanced at him and pulled her napkin from the table, shaking it and dropping it on her lap. "I shall write the rector tomorrow and communicate with him about certain changes in your curriculum. Now let us eat. You must have nourishment if you are to study successfully tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is Saturday."
"Will be," she corrected Janice, her beautiful face smiling. "I hope your musical talent is as great as your ability to render German incomprehensible. Tomorrow will be Saturday, and you will have an entire day free for study. You are fortunate. Now let us eat."
It was just over six weeks before she returned. At first Janice was eaten with jealousy, wondering who Lisa might be seeing, and then she found that study was a release from the torment of wondering, the stark loneliness, and the burning need to see Lisa again. Her curriculum was increased as a result of the letters between Lisa and the rector, and she threw herself into the work, devoting all her energies and every moment of every waking hour. She found that she had extra time when the impetus of her dogged determination began to overcome the inertia of the subjects, and she delved deeper into German, working on her accent and broadening her vocabulary. Then she worked in the library, overcoming the problems with the ponderous, pedantic forms of written expression and devouring heavy tomes related to her subjects.
She quickly became recognized as one of the more promising students, and she was singled out for special attention by the professors. A surprising number of people recognized the Grevenburg crest she wore, and that also resulted in her being singled out. She was designated as assistant to the conductor of the student orchestra, and she received a formal, stuffily polite letter from the manager of the Staatsoper along with a season pass to a box seat which had been issued in Lisa's name.
A month passed, and Lisa went to London to conduct. Janice got a letter from her, the fourth one she had received. They were normally polite and very correct, but it was somewhat warmer in tone, apologizing for the delay in visiting. Janice was furiously angry and almost threw it into the fire, then she put it away and answered it the next day, writing to Lisa in care of the Prince Albert Hall in London. Two days later she read in a newspaper of Lisa's first performance, and the reaction of the audience had been wildly enthusiastic, almost unheard of in the phlegmatic Prince Albert. Two days later she got another letter from Lisa, thanking Janice for writing and telling her that the audience had been gracious.
The following day was Friday, and Janice was tired from the driving pace of the preceding week when she got to her room. She took a quick bath and put on her robe, then came back out of the bathroom and glanced at the clock as she put wood on the flickering flame in the tiny fireplace. There was an hour available to study before getting ready for the Friday evening performance at the Staatsoper, and she would have dinner at the restaurant where she and Lisa had eaten. The headwaiter there had taken a fatherly interest in her, and he seemed more than ordinarily conscious about the ring she wore. The restaurant had a file of heraldic emblems, and when one of the small private rooms was available the Grevenburg arms would always be over the fireplace when she entered. When they were filled, the headwaiter would apologize profusely and find her a private table by herself in the corner, and while he escorted her across the dining room with bows and flourishes of his arm a waiter would always rush in with the Grevenburg arms to hang behind her table. It was a production the headwaiter seemed to enjoy as much as Janice, and it never failed to attract attention and raise eyebrows even among the sophisticated clientele of the restaurant.
Janice sat down at the small desk and opened a thick volume on polyphonics from the library. The murmur of movement from the adjoining room barely penetrated her consciousness; it had been vacant for a few days, and it was apparently occupied again. Then there was a quiet knock on the door between her room and the next one; it was a door with a bolt on each side which had apparently been put in for when her room and the adjoining room was used as a suite. The knock came again, and there was a metallic rattle as the bolt on the other side of the door was drawn back. Janice put the book down and pulled her robe tighter as she crossed the room toward the door, frowning slightly. She pulled the bolt back and opened the door. It was Lisa.
Janice felt as though she was melting inside. There was a choking sensation in her throat, her breath was suddenly short, and she felt weak and helpless, rooted to the spot where she was standing. Her love was before her again, much more intense than her memories and dreams. She whimpered and lurched forward, throwing herself into Lisa's arms.
Lisa staggered back a step from the force of Janice's embrace, and she chuckled softly as she put her arms around Janice, holding her and stroking her hair as she kissed the side of her face. "My little darling," she murmured. "Have you missed me?"
"Every minute of every day," Janice moaned, pinching the skin on Lisa's silky throat between her lips and touching it with the tip of her tongue. "I've been dying to see you, Lisa. I've been so lonely without you."