always bear
me a grudge for it, so please note, I don't say it--for we are going to
be friends, I hope?"

"I hope so, too," said the young man.

They walked some distance along the unfinished end of the
MOZARTSTRASSE, where only a few villas stood, in newly made gardens.

"At least, I should like to know her name her whole name. You said
Louise, I think?"

She laughed outright at this. "Her name is Dufrayer, Louise Dufrayer,
and she has been here studying with Schwarz for about a year and a half
now. She has some talent, but is indolent to the last degree, and only
works when she can't help it. Also she always has an admirer of some
kind in tow. This, to-day, is her last particular friend.--Is that
biographical matter enough?"

He was afraid he had made himself ridiculous in her eyes, and did not
answer. They walked the rest of the way in silence. At her house-door,
they paused to take leave of each other.

"Good-bye. Come and see me sometimes when you have time. We were once
colleagues, you know, and are now fellow-pupils. I should be glad to
help you if you ever need help."

He thanked her and promised to remember; then walked home without,
knowing how he did it. He had room in brain for one thought only; he
knew her name, he knew her name. He said it again and again to himself,
walked in time with it, and found it as heady as wine; the mere sound
of the spoken syllables seemed to bring her nearer to him, to establish
a mysterious connection between them. Moreover, in itself it pleased
him extraordinarily; and he was vaguely grateful to something outside
himself, that it was a name he could honestly admire.

In a kind of defiant challenge to unseen powers, he doubled his arm and
felt the muscles in it. Then he sat down at his piano, and, to the
dismay of his landlady--for it was now late evening--practised for a
couple of hours without stopping. And the scales he sent flying up and
down in the darkness had a ring of exultation in them, were like cries
of triumph.

He had discovered the "Open Sesame" to his treasure. And there was time
and to spare. He left everything to the future, in blind trust that it
would bring him good fortune. It was enough that they were here
together, inhabitants of the same town. Besides, he had formed a
friendship with some one who knew her; a way would surely open up, in
which he might make her aware of his presence. In the meantime, it was
something to live for. Each day that