an intolerable old person to get on with, if he could
rage in that fashion."

"Possibly he had occasion." Beatrix forced herself to speak lightly,
though it was an effort for her to resume the accent and manner which
befitted the place.

"Perhaps. He was a Russian musician with a young wife. Now for the
Schubert group! Thayer's reputation is made, though; he can sing through
his nose now, and they will think it a beautiful manifestation of
individual genius. I only hope that Arlt will do one tenth as well."

It proved that Arlt did fully six tenths as well, and was applauded to
the echo. To the undiscerning ear, he won even more than his share of
applause; but Beatrix, her nerves still tense from _The Erl-King_, felt
a difference in the quality of the welcome to the two musicians. The
critical few were impartial, and in the case of Arlt they led a wavering
fugue of the uncritical many. Arlt was young, small and insignificant.
His tailor was not an artist, and Arlt was too palpably conscious that
his coat tails demanded respectful care. Society applauded Arlt with
punctilious courtesy; but it promptly took Thayer to its bosom and
caressed him with enthusiasm.

Late in the evening, Beatrix brought her father to the corner where
Thayer, with Arlt beside him, was still holding a sort of court, and the
four of them were talking quietly when Mrs. Stanley came pushing her way
towards them.

"I must add my word of congratulation, Mr. Thayer," she said, as she
graciously offered him a pudgy bundle of white kid fingers. "You have
made a wonderful success, and it won't be long before you have New York
at your feet."

Thayer glanced down at his patent leather shoes.

"It would be a good deal in the way, Mrs. Stanley. Let us hope it will
stay where it belongs," he answered gravely.

"How ungrateful you artists are! But I shall always be so glad and proud
to think that your first song in New York was in my house."

"But it wasn't."

Her face fell.

"I thought--Wasn't that your first recital? I am sure you said--"

His smile went no further than his lips, for his clear gray eyes
appeared to be taking her mental and spiritual measure, with some little
disappointment at the result.

"It was my first recital, Mrs. Stanley; but not my first song. I sang
German folk songs to Arlt's landlady, half the afternoon before. You
remember Mr. Arlt, I think."

She glanced around with a carelessness which ignored the hand that the