r Mrs. Arrowpoint's face; but the entrance of
the gentlemen prevented any immediate mischief between her and this too
quick young lady, who had over-acted her _naivete_.

"Ah, here comes Herr Klesmer," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, rising; and
presently bringing him to Gwendolen, she left them to a dialogue which
was agreeable on both sides, Herr Klesmer being a felicitous
combination of the German, the Sclave and the Semite, with grand
features, brown hair floating in artistic fashion, and brown eyes in
spectacles. His English had little foreignness except its fluency; and
his alarming cleverness was made less formidable just then by a certain
softening air of silliness which will sometimes befall even genius in
the desire of being agreeable to beauty.

Music was soon begun. Miss Arrowpoint and Herr Klesmer played a
four-handed piece on two pianos, which convinced the company in general
that it was long, and Gwendolen in particular that the neutral,
placid-faced Miss Arrowpoint had a mastery of the instrument which put
her own execution out of question--though she was not discouraged as to
her often-praised touch and style. After this every one became anxious
to hear Gwendolen sing; especially Mr. Arrowpoint; as was natural in a
host and a perfect gentleman, of whom no one had anything to say but
that he married Miss Cuttler and imported the best cigars; and he led
her to the piano with easy politeness. Herr Klesmer closed the
instrument in readiness for her, and smiled with pleasure at her
approach; then placed himself at a distance of a few feet so that he
could see her as she sang.

Gwendolen was not nervous; what she undertook to do she did without
trembling, and singing was an enjoyment to her. Her voice was a
moderately powerful soprano (some one had told her it was like Jenny
Lind's), her ear good, and she was able to keep in tune, so that her
singing gave pleasure to ordinary hearers, and she had been used to
unmingled applause. She had the rare advantage of looking almost
prettier when she was singing than at other times, and that Herr
Klesmer was in front of her seemed not disagreeable. Her song,
determined on beforehand, was a favorite aria of Belini's, in which she
felt quite sure of herself.

"Charming?" said Mr. Arrowpoint, who had remained near, and the word
was echoed around without more insincerity than we recognize in a
brotherly way as human. But Herr Klesmer stood like a statue--if a
statue can be imag