eered through them at her music with
intelligent intensity and profound humility. The violin was played by an
enormous young man with red hair, and the viola, second violin and
'cello by three young women, all of the black-and-tan Semitic type.

Mrs. Forrester was too much preoccupied with her wonder to listen as she
would have wished to, but by the time the end of the movement was come
she had realized that they played extremely well.

Karen came forward in the interval. She was undoubtedly pale and
heavy-eyed; but in her little dress of dark blue silk, with her narrow
lawn ruffles and locket and shining hair, she showed none of the
desperate signs appropriate to her circumstances nor any embarrassment
at the incongruous situation in which Mrs. Forrester found her.

"This is Frau Lippheim, Mrs. Forrester," she said. "And these are
Fraeulein Lotta and Minna and Elizabeth, and this is Herr Franz. I think
you have often heard Tante speak of our friends."

Her ears buzzing with the name of Lippheim since the night before, Mrs.
Forrester was aware that she showed confusion, also that for a brief,
sharp instant, while her eyes rested on Herr Franz, a pang of perverse
sympathy for Gregory, in a certain aspect of his wickedness,
disintegrated her state of mind. He was singular looking indeed, this
untidy young man, whose ill-kept clothes had a look of insecurity, like
arrested avalanches on a mountain. "No, I can feel for Gregory somewhat
in this," Mrs. Forrester said to herself.

"We are having some music, you see," said Karen. "Herr Lippheim promised
me yesterday that they would all come and play to me. Can you stay and
listen for a little while? They must go before tea, for they have a
rehearsal for their concert," she added, as though to let Mrs. Forrester
know that she was not unconscious of the matter that must have brought
her.

There was really no reason why she shouldn't stay. She could not very
well ask to have the Lippheims and their instruments turned out.
Moreover she was very fond of the Quintet. Mrs. Forrester said that she
would be glad to stay.

When they went on to the fourth movement, and while she listened, giving
her mind to the music, Mrs. Forrester's disintegration slowly recomposed
itself. It was not only that the music was heavenly and that they played
so well. She liked these people; they were the sort of people she had
always liked. She forgot Herr Franz's uncouth and mountainous aspect.
His