ch a woman appeared in such a costume.
I must plead illness or any other cause, but stay at home I must. I
thought over several lies, but at last I decided that I would tell my
gracious pupil the truth; so I did.

"'Listen,' I said. 'My mother will not allow me to accompany you if
you sing barefoot. If it is really the point of the piece that 'Julia'
must present herself without stockings on her feet, then I must deny
myself the pleasure of playing on the piano.'

"The silly child laughed very much, and said she would get somebody
else. She may do as she likes; I don't care. Mamma is perfectly right
in forbidding me to go, and I think that I have done perfectly right
to tell my pupil why I refuse to accompany her."

This letter depressed Ivan. For a long time he looked at the
photograph, considering it from every point of view. Evila in a dress
the thin material of which showed every motion of her plastic limbs;
in one hand she gathered the folds across her breast, her eyes had a
murderous glare in their violet depths, her long and beautiful hair
fell to her feet; in her right hand she pointed a dagger towards a
motionless form which lay at her feet covered by a rug. This was the
second time that Ivan had heard the story from a lady.

The next day he received another letter from Arpad; he found it on his
return from the first meeting with Salista.

"Eveline," wrote the artist, "performed her tableau before the prince
without the accompaniment of the piano and without the company of her
husband. She looked so lovely that all the prince's good principles
melted away like snow before the sun. He took her hand and kissed it;
then the murderous look disappeared from her sweet eyes; she broke out
into a ripple of laughter.

"'Prince, do you not see that I have a knife in my hand?'

"'I can take it from you.'

"The young girl laughed again; and we all know how easy it is to take
anything from a smiling woman.

"At this moment there resounded through the room an echo of Eveline's
laugh; that is to say, if you can call a frog's croak an echo of a
nightingale's song. Out of the conservatory, which ornaments one side
of the room, there came a crippled dwarf, who supported himself upon
crutches. His long head was sunk between his high shoulders, and his
white, satyr-like face was distorted by an odious grin as he dragged
himself between the prince and his inamorata.

"'Prince, we are not alone,' laughed Eveline, freeing