tleman was not
present either; and as the unhappy lover walked down the moonlit
Lisztstrasse he fancied he recognized the couple he sought. Could it be!
He rushed after the pair to be mocked by the slamming of a gate, he knew
not on what lonely street....

The next afternoon the duel began. Fridolina did not return for a
sitting as he had hoped; instead came an invitation for a drive to the
Hermitage. It was Mrs. Fridolin who sent it. Strange! Arthmann was
surprised at this renewal of friendly ties after his gentle dismissal in
the Hofgarten. But he dressed in his most effective clothes and, shining
with hope, reached the Hotel Sonne; two open carriages stood before its
arched doorway. Presently the others came downstairs and the day became
gray for the sculptor. Caspar Dennett, looking like a trim Antinous with
a fashionable tailor, smiled upon all, especially Miss Bredd. Mrs.
Fridolin alone did not seem at ease. She was very friendly with
Arthmann, but would not allow him in her carriage. "No," she protested,
"you two men must keep Margaret company. I'll ride with my bright little
Louie and listen to her anti-Wagner blasphemies." She spoke as if she
had fought under the Wagner banner from the beginning.

Margaret sat alone on the back seat. Although she grimaced at her
mother's suggestion, she was in high spirits, exploding over every
trivial incident of the journey. Arthmann, as he faced her, told himself
that he had never seen her so giggling and commonplace, so unlike an
artist, so bourgeois, so fat. He noticed, too, that her lovely eyes
expanded with the same expression, whether art or eating was mentioned.
He hardly uttered a word, for the others discussed "Tristan und Isolde"
until he hated Wagner's name. She was through with her work at Bayreuth
and Frau Cosima had promised her Isolde--positively. She meant to
undergo a severe _Kur_ at Marienbad and then return to the United
States. Mr. Grau had also promised her Isolde; while Jean de
Reszke--dear, wonderful Jean vowed that he would sing Tristan to no
other Isolde during his American tournee! So it was settled. All she
needed was her mother's consent--and that would not be a difficult
matter to compass. Had she not always wheedled the mater into her
schemes, even when Uncle Job opposed her? She would never marry,
never--anyhow not until she had sung Isolde--and then only a
Wagner-loving husband.

"And the temperament, the missing link--how about that?" asked