y heart sank below my boots but I waded downstairs, spoiling many a
tete-a-tete by my haste, for which I was duly and audibly execrated. Why
do people at musicales flirt on the stairs?

Upon reaching the front drawing-room I found Edith taking her seat at
the demon piano. Tompkins was nowhere visible, and I felt relieved. The
guests looked worn out, and knots of men were hanging suspiciously
about the closed doors of the supper room.

The musical part of the entertainment was about over, Edith's solo being
the very last. Suddenly all became still; every one had to listen to the
daughter of the hostess.

She looked positively radiant. Her eyes sparkled, and of her early
nervousness not a trace remained.

"Do turn over the leaves nicely, that's a good fellow, Mr.
Trybill"--again that odious phrase--"I feel so happy I'm sure I'll play
well." Naturally, I was flattered at the inference. I was near her--the
darling of my wildest dreams. Of course she would play well, and of
course I would turn over the music nobly.

She began. The piece was Liszt's Polonaise in E. My brave girl, how
proud I felt of her as she began. How she rushed on! I could scarcely
turn the leaves fast enough for my little girl, my wife that was to be.
How sweet her face seemed. I was ravished. I must tell her all to-night,
and she will put her plump little hand in mine and say, "Yes"; the sweet
little--

Bang! Smash, crash-bang! "Stupid fellow, I hate you!" I awoke as from a
dream. Edith was standing up and in tears. Alas! Fatal dreamer that I
am, I had turned over two pages at once, and trouble ensued, for Edith
never memorized....

As I stood in horrid silence Mrs. Wegstaffe swooped down on Edith and
took her away, saying in a harsh voice, "The young man knows nothing of
the divine art!" Then the supper signal was sounded, and a cyclone's
fury was not comparable to the rush and crush.

Old Wegstaffe, in a very shaky condition, led a gallant band of unsteady
men in a gallop to the supper room, crying, "Bluebottle's the horsh for
me." I lost heart. All my brilliant visions fled. As I stood alone in
the hall Mrs. Wegstaffe triumphantly passed me on the arm of Herr
Wunderheim. She looked at me a moment, then, seeming to pity my
loneliness, leaned toward me, saying in acidulously sweet accents:

"Ah, no partner yet, Mr. Trybill? Your first partner is engaged, and to
Mr. Tompkins. Do go in and congratulate him, that's a good fellow."

She swam aw