The San Francisco call., 1905-02-05

met Mr.. Arnold Dolmetsch for the
second time this week. The first time
cost me Just s35 20, Communication
ticket, a recipe for oyster salad and a
few other pocketbook fripperies. It
was quite Mr.. DoImetsch's fault 1t
was In the days when I lived in Oak
iano-in that, of course, one was culp-
able-and had justs laid hands on
Evelyn Inness." 1t was between its
not to speak Of Melba, who will also be
here this week. Inness, the quaint old
figure among his vioIs and harpsi-
chords, his Palaestrina and Monte
verde, lost me one boat to begin with.
However, managed to get the next,
and as far as possible from the Band
was soon deep among the madrigals
again. I forgot everything else The
city purpled, faded, lost itself; Goat
Island. loomed and paled, Oakland up
glittered, the crowd crushed off the
boat, I with it, still with my nose in
the book. 1t was the other person
that kindly took charge Of my purse.
And that is why 1 rather felt that
knew Mr.. Dolmetsch, who as every one
knows is the original of Inness Was
the original as fascinating as the por-
trait, wondered as / went into Lyric
Hall to meet him? How near to life
had the novelist dared to draw? It
was at any rate not at all the outside
lnness that looked down at me as 1
reached the platform. You would give
Mr.. Dolmetsch perhaps forty-two or
ar+ 1,ov 1ir-
ty and eight. Eyes are the first and
last thing you see Of him. They are
tremendously large, black, bright:
eyes you would give to an Othello, or set
looking over a lutte. There is a delicate
nose, a bit Of softly-straggling pointed
beard, and a heavy sweep of black
hair covering the brow. 1t is a face
you could not possibly escape. A
painter, rather than a musician, 1t
somehow suggests, but II is eXquisitely
in its last suggestion the artist face.
The audacious red Of the tie helped it
delightfully."-. and the careless blue serge
that you may have seen-as have-on
William Morris and that ilk. Mr.. Dol
metsch was at the harpsichord as
went up, and I found, as he stood to
greet me, that there was not more than
five feet two or three Of the man that
has done more for the ancient faith of
music than any other living person.
We'll, this is Mr.. Inness at last"
laughed as we shook hands.
Mr.. Dolmetsch smiled and owned
that he had sat for the figure asked
him then if George Moore were not
rather an impertinent person, and if
he were generally given to putting his
friends into his books, and if Mr. Dol
metsch had minded?
'Oh, no, I didn't mind,'' and Mr. Dol
metsch's shrug and smile asked why
should he? 'In fact" he added, "I
wrote part Of it'
oh" contributed.
That is" he explained, some of the
musical descriptions. It was odd how
, came TO know Moore-you care to
hear2'' did indeed.
Then. sitting by the virginals. to
which Shakespeare himself may have
listened. Mr.. Dolmetsch told me- He
was dining ct an old London tavern
where artists congregate and some
friend Of his came in with a tall, lank
chap that nobody seemed to know
this was before Moore became famous
They came TO the Dolmetsch table, and
the ungainly stranger began to talk
heresy about the harpsichord. He said
that the friend had invited him to at
tend some Of the Dolrnetsch affairs and
that he had refused. He intimated
that any one could take harpsichord,
tiukle upon it and draw a crowd, but
that that was freakism not art. Then
ssid Mr. Dolmetsch: You know moth
a large part OF the night explaining to
Mr.. Moore a few Of the things he did
not know about it. A day or two later
came a note from Moore saying that he
was much struck by what Mr.. Dol
metsch had said; might he come to
hear him play?" Well, "DowIands."
Of the book, even to the name, is the
Dolmetsch cottage at Dulwich, and
Evelyn Inness" generally a proof of
conversion.
And who is Evelyn Inness?" I
asked.
"It is generally supposed to be Mel
ba," the musician put ii. but is a COM
pound. really. Of two characters-Inost
Of the figures are drawn from life"
But this was not music; neither was
the fascinating chat of George Bernard
Shaw. William Morris. Burne-Jones.
that follOwed-would ! had space for
it. ] asked at length to hear the
virginsls at Mr.. Dolmetsch's elbow
and then ] saw the Dolmetsch Of
George Moore's book. 1t was the face
Of devotee that bent over the old
lockwood keys. and turned to watch
mine as the first notes of the virginals
fell on my ear. Ny surprised delight in
The tone-truth TO tell 1 had expected