e, breathes out her joy
in rapturous song, our young singer on turning from the window, at the
back of the theatre, to the spectators again, was pale for joy. And in
that pale joyousness she sang with a burst of outflowing love and life
that called forth, not the mirth, but the tears of the auditors.

From this time she was the declared favorite of the Swedish public, whose
musical tastes and knowledge are said not to be surpassed. And, year after
year, she continued so, though, after a time, her voice, being
overstrained, lost somewhat of its freshness, and the public being
satiated, no more crowded the house when she was singing. Still, at that
time, she could be heard singing and playing more delightfully than ever
in Pamina (in Zauberflote) or in Anna Bolena, though the opera was almost
deserted. She evidently sang for the pleasure of the song.

By that time she went to take lessons of Garcia, in Paris, and so give the
finishing touch to her musical education. There she acquired that warble
in which she is said to have been equalled by no singer, and which could
be compared only to that of the soaring and warbling lark, if the lark had
a soul.

And then the young girl went abroad and sang on foreign shores and to
foreign people. She charmed Denmark, she charmed Germany, she charmed
England. She was caressed and courted every where, even to adulation. At
the courts of kings, the houses of the great and noble, she was feasted as
one of the grandees of nature and art. She was covered with laurels and
jewels. But friends wrote of her, "In the midst of these splendors she
only thinks of her Sweden, and yearns for her friends and her people."

One dusky October night, crowds of people (the most part, by their dress,
seemed to belong to the upper classes of society) thronged on the shore of
the Baltic harbor at Stockholm. All looked toward the sea. There was a
rumor of expectance and pleasure. Hours passed away, and the crowds still
gathered, and waited and looked out eagerly toward the sea. At length a
brilliant rocket rose joyfully, far out at the entrance of the harbor, and
was greeted with a general buzz on the shore.

"There she comes! there she is!" A large steamer now came whelming on its
triumphant way through the flocks of ships and boats lying in the harbor,
toward the shore of the "Skeppsbero." Flashing rockets marked its way in
the dark as it advanced. The crowds on the shore pressed forward as if to
meet i