in Bath. He
taught music, played the organ, became first violinist for Professor
Linlay and later led the orchestra when Linlay was on the road starring
the one-night stands and his beautiful daughter.

Things seemed to prosper with the kindly and talented German. He was
reserved, intellectual, and was respected by the best. He was making
money--not as London brokers might count money, but prosperous for a
mere music-teacher.

And so there came a day when he bought out the school of Professor
Linlay, and became proprietor and leader of the famous Bath Orchestra.

But the talented Mrs. Richard Brinsley Sheridan was sorely missed--a
woman soloist of worth was needed.

Herschel thought and pondered. He tried candidates from London and a few
from Paris. Some had voices, but no intellect. A very few had intellect,
but were without voice. Some thought they had a voice when what they had
was a disease. Other voices he tried and found guilty.

Those who had voice and spirit had tempers like a tornado.

Herschel decided to educate a soloist and assistant. To marry a woman
for the sake of educating her was risky business--he knew of men who had
tried it--for men have tried it since the time of the Cavemen.

A bright thought came to him! He would go back to Deutschland and get
one of his sisters, and bring her over to England to help him do his
work--just the very thing!

* * * * *

It was a most fortunate stroke for Herschel when he went back home to
get one of his sisters to come over into Macedonia and help him. No man
ever did a great work unless he was backed up by a good woman. There
were five of these Herschel girls--three were married, so they were out
of the question, and another was engaged. This left Caroline as first,
last and only choice. Caroline was twenty-two and could sing a little.

She had appeared in concerts for her father when a child. But when the
father died, the girl was set to work in a dressmaking and millinery
shop, to help support the big family. The mother didn't believe that
women should be educated--it unfitted them for domesticity, and to speak
of a woman as educated was to suggest that she was a poor housekeeper.

In Greece of old, educated women were spoken of as "companions"--and
this meant that they were not what you would call respectable. They were
the intellectual companions of men. The Greek term of disrespect carried
with it a trifle of a suggesti