t were. He
asked who was the woman of such interesting melancholy sitting next to
Major Bellmann. He was told that that was the wife of the composer. His
wife? She is not at all bad; life with her would be rather worth while.
And who was the woman between old Herold and the Frenchman? A charming
little creature: she had eyes like the Lake of Liguria and hands like a
princess. That was the sister of the composer's wife. Sister? You don't
tell me! A jolly fine family; worth the support of any man.

Toasts were drunk. Herr Ehrenreich, the wholesale merchant, drank to the
health of the creator of the "Harzreise"; the Count to the ladies
present.

Herr Carovius created a sensation. He sat with the members of the
"Liedertafel"; they had sung in the chorus; and they were ashamed of
him, for he conducted himself in a most unseemly fashion.

He had somehow managed to get hold of a glove Eleanore had lost, and
possibly it was this that made him so convivial. He picked up an almond
shell from the serving tray, and threw it at Fraeulein Varini. He let his
leery, lascivious eyes roam about over the cut glass and the decorations
of the hall, and never once grew tired of praising the wealth and
splendour of the house. He acted as though he were quite at home. He
raised his wine glass, and declared that he was charmed by the flavour
and colour of the costly, precious juice from the grape: he tried to
give the impression that he knew the Auffenberg wine cellar from years
of intimate association with it.

Then it happened that through a hasty, awkward movement, he upset his
plate; a rivulet of rich brown gravy ran down over his white vest. He
became silent; he retired within himself. He dipped his napkin in the
water, and rubbed and rubbed. The waiters tittered. He buttoned up his
coat, and looked like a show window in the dead of night.

The eyes of the waiters were also given the privilege of feasting on
another rare social phenomenon. They noticed that Kapellmeister Nothafft
was sitting at the table in his stocking feet. His patent leather shoes
had hurt him so much that he made short work of it and took them off
during the dinner. There they stood without master or servant, one at
the right, the other at the left of his disencumbered feet. Whenever the
waiters passed by, they would cast one furtive but profitable glance
under the table, and bite their lips to keep from bursting out in
laughter.

This rude offence to social dig