furtively. If he did say anything severe it
would be so hard for them all. They could only comfort themselves with
thinking that Prince Camaralzaman, who had heard the finest things,
preferred Mirah's singing to any other:--also she appeared to be doing
her very best, as if she were more instead of less at ease than usual.

The song she had chosen was a fine setting of some words selected from
Leopardi's grand Ode to Italy:--

"_O patria mia, vedo le mura c gli archi
E le colonne e i simula-cri e l'erme
Torridegli avi nostri_"--

This was recitative: then followed--

"_Ma la gloria--non vedo_"--

a mournful melody, a rhythmic plaint. After this came a climax of
devout triumph--passing from the subdued adoration of a happy Andante
in the words--

"_Beatissimi voi.
Che offriste il petto alle nemiche lance
Per amor di costei che al sol vi diede_"--

to the joyous outburst of an exultant Allegro in--

"_Oh viva, oh viva:
Beatissimi voi
Mentre nel monde si favelli o scriva._"

When she had ended, Klesmer said after a moment--

"That is Joseph Leo's music."

"Yes, he was my last master--at Vienna: so fierce and so good," said
Mirah, with a melancholy smile. "He prophesied that my voice would not
do for the stage. And he was right."

"_Con_tinue, if you please," said Klesmer, putting out his lips and
shaking his long fingers, while he went on with a smothered
articulation quite unintelligible to the audience.

The three girls detested him unanimously for not saying one word of
praise. Mrs. Meyrick was a little alarmed.

Mirah, simply bent on doing what Klesmer desired, and imagining that he
would now like to hear her sing some German, went through Prince
Radzivill's music to Gretchen's songs in the "Faust," one after the
other without any interrogatory pause. When she had finished he rose
and walked to the extremity of the small space at command, then walked
back to the piano, where Mirah had risen from her seat and stood
looking toward him with her little hands crossed before her, meekly
awaiting judgment; then with a sudden unknitting of his brow and with
beaming eyes, he stretched out his hand and said abruptly, "Let us
shake hands: you are a musician."

Mab felt herself beginning to cry, and all the three girls held Klesmer
adorable. Mrs. Meyrick took a long breath.

But straightway the frown came again, the long hand, back uppermost,
was stretched out in quite a different