sentimental
words of the song. "And this," he said, "from the learned ass who is
not yet convinced that the FEUERZAUBER is music, and who groans like a
dredge when the last act of SIEGFRIED is mentioned. Wendling and
Wagner! Listen to this!--for once, I am a full-blooded Wagnerite."

He felt after the chords that prelude Brunnhilde's awakening by
Siegfried. Until now, Avery Hill had sat indifferent, as though what
went on had nothing to do with her; but no sooner had Krafft commenced
to play than she grew uneasy; her eyes lost their cold assurance, and,
suddenly getting up and going round to the front of the piano, she
pushed the young man's hands from the keys. Krafft yielded his place to
her, and, taking up the chords where he had left them, she went on. She
played very well--even Maurice in his disturbance could, not but notice
it--with a firm, masculine touch, and that inborn ease, that enviable
appearance of perfect fitness, of being one with the instrument, which
even the greatest players do not always attain. She had, besides, grip
and rhythm, and long, close-knit hands insinuated themselves artfully
among the complicated harmonies.

When she began to play, Madeleine made "Tch, tch, tch!" and shook her
head, in despair of now ever being rid of them. Krafft remained
standing behind the piano at the window leaning his forehead on the
glass. Maurice, who watched them both surreptitiously, saw his face
change, and grow thoughtful as he stood there; but when Avery Hill
ceased abruptly on a discord, he wheeled round at once and patted her
on the back. While looking over to Maurice, he said: "No doubt you
found that very pretty and affecting?"

"I think that's none of your business," said Maurice.

But Krafft did not take umbrage. "You don't say so?" he murmured with a
show of surprise.

"Now, go, go, go!" cried Madeleine. "What have I done to be subjected
to such a visitation? No, Heinz, you don't sit down again. Here's your
hat. Away with you!--or I'll have you put out by force."

And at last they really did go, to a cool bow from Maurice, who still
sat holding his magazine. But Madeleine had hardly closed the door
behind them, when, like a whirlwind, Krafft burst into the room again.

"Mada, I forgot to ask you something," he said in a stage-whisper,
drawing her aside. "Tell me--you KUPPLERIN, you!--does he know her?" He
pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at Maurice.

Madeleine shook her head, in real