tretch!--I have never
seen anything like it. He spans a tenth, nay, an eleventh, more easily
than we do an octave."

The object of Dove's visit was, it transpired, to propose that Maurice
should accompany him that evening to the theatre, where DIE WALKURE was
to be performed; and as, on this day, Dove had reasons for seeing the
world through rose-coloured glasses, he suggested, out of the fulness
of his heart, that they should also invite Madeleine to join them.
Maurice was nothing loath to have the meeting with her over, and so,
though it was not quite three o'clock, they went together to the
MOZARTSTRASSE.

They found Madeleine before her writing-table, which was strewn with
closely written sheets. This was mail-day for America, she explained,
and begged the young men to excuse her finishing an important letter to
an American journalist, with whom she had once "chummed up" on a trip
to Italy.

"One never knows when these people may be of use to one," she was
accustomed to say.

Having addressed and stamped the envelope, and tossed it to the others,
she rose and gave a hand to each. At Maurice, she smiled in a
significant way.

"You should have stayed, my son. Some one came, after all."

Maurice laid an imploring finger on his lips, but Dove had seized the
opportunity of glancing at his cravat in the mirror, and did not seem
to hear.

She agreed willingly to their plan of going to the theatre; she had
thought of it herself; then, a girl she knew had asked her to come to
hear her play in ENSEMBLESPIEL.

"However, I will let that slip. Schelper and Moran-Olden are to sing;
it will be a fine performance. I suppose some one is to be there," she
said laughingly to Dove, "or you would not be of the party."

But Dove only smiled and looked sly.

Without delay, Madeleine began to detail to Maurice, the leading
motives on which the WALKURE was built up; and Dove, having hummed,
strummed and whistled all those he knew by heart, settled down to a
discourse on the legitimacy and development of the motive, and
especially in how far it was to be considered a purely intellectual
implement. He spoke with the utmost good-nature, and was so unconscious
of being a bore that it was impossible to take him amiss. Madeleine,
however, could not resist, from time to time, throwing in a "Really!"
"How extraordinary!" "You don't say so!" among his abstruse remarks.
But her sarcasm was lost on Dove; and even if he had noticed it, he