ginning of her
season, only releasing him when September came, for then her money was
earned and banked.

"But what has this to do with me?" peevishly asked Fridolina, who was
tired and sleepy. "If ever I marry it must be a man who will let me sing
Isolde. Most foreign husbands hide their wives away like a dog its
bone." She beamed on Wenceslaus. "Then you will never marry a foreign
husband," returned the sculptor, irritably.

IV

"You must know, Mr. Arthmann, that my girl is a spoilt child, as
innocent as a baby, and has everything to learn about the ways of the
world. Remember, too, that I first posed her voice, taught her all she
knew of her art before she went to Parchesi. What you ask--taking into
consideration that we, that _I_, hardly know you--is rather premature,
is it not?" They were walking in the cool morning down the green alleys
of the Hofgarten, where the sculptor had asked Mrs. Fridolin for her
daughter. He was mortified as he pushed his crisp beard from side to
side. He felt that he had been far from proposing marriage to this large
young woman's mother; something must have driven him to such a crazy
action. Was it Caspar Dennett and his classic profile that had angered
him into the confession? Nonsense! The conductor was a married man with
a family. Despite her easy, unaffected manner, Margaret Fridolin was no
fool; she ever observed the ultimate proprieties, and being dangerously
unromantic would be the last woman in the world to throw herself away.
But this foolish mania about Isolde. What of that? It was absurd to
consider such a thing.... Her mother would never tolerate the attempt--

"Don't you think my judgment in this matter is just, Mr. Arthmann?" Mrs.
Fridolin was blandly observing him. He asked her pardon for his
inattention; he had been dreaming of a possible happiness! She was very
amiable. "And you know, of course, that Margaret has prospects"--he did
not, and was all ears--"if she will only leave the operatic stage. Her
career will be a brilliant one despite her figure, Mr. Arthmann; but
there is a more brilliant social career awaiting her if she follows her
uncle's advice and marries. My brother is a rich man, and my daughter
may be his heiress. Never as a singer--Job is prejudiced against the
stage--and never if she marries a foreigner." "But I shall become a
citizen of the United States, madame." "Where were you born?" "Bergen;
my mother was from Warsaw," he moodily replied. "It