asily, with his large, white
hands. Now, every one leaned forward to see him better; especially the
ladies threw themselves into positions from which they could watch hair
and hands, and the slender, swaying figure.

"Isn't he divine?" said the bold-eyed girl on the bed, in a loud
whisper, and hung upon her companion's neck in an ecstatic attitude.

After the diversity of noises which had hitherto interfered with his
thinking connectedly, Maurice welcomed the continuous sound of the
music, which went on without a break. He sat in a listening attitude,
shading his eyes with his hand. Through his fingers, he surreptitiously
watched the player. He had never before had an opportunity of observing
Schilsky so closely, and, with a kind of blatant generosity, he now
pointed out to himself each physical detail that he found prepossessing
in the other, every feature that was likely to attract--in the next
breath, only to struggle with his honest opinion that the composer was
a slippery, loose-jointed, caddish fellow, who could never be proved to
be worthy of Louise. But he was too down-hearted at what he had learnt
in the course of the evening, to rise to any active feeling of dislike.

Intermittently he heard, in spite of himself, something of Schilsky's
music; but he was not in a frame of mind to understand or to retain any
impression of it. He was more effectively jerked out of his
preoccupation by single spoken words, which, from time to time, struck
his ear: this was Furst, who, in the absence of a programme, announced
from his seat beside Schilsky, the headings of the different sections
of the work: WERDEGANG; SEILTANZER--here Maurice saw Dove conducting
with head and hand--NOTSCHREI; SCHWERMUT; TARANTELN--and here again,
but vaguely, as if at a distance, he heard suppressed laughter. But he
was thoroughly roused when Krafft, picking up a sheet of music and
coming round to the front of the piano, began to sing DAS TRUNKENE
LIED. By way of introduction, the low F in the bass of F minor sounded
persistently, at syncopated intervals; Schilsky inclined his head, and
Krafft sang, in his sweet, flute-like voice:

Oh, Mensch! Gieb Acht!
Was spricht die tiefe Mitternacht?
"Ich schlief, ich schlief,
Aus tiefem Schlaf bin ich erwacht:
Die Welt ist tief,
Und tiefer als der Tag gedacht."

--the last phrase of which was repeated by the accompaniment, a
semitone higher.

Tief ist ihr Weh,
Lust--tiefer noch al