numerous
sheets of music scattered in disorder over the piano. The whole
produced the impression that there were no bright eyes here, to whom
life was pleasant for the sake of its charms.

The face of the occupant only too plainly confirmed the testimony of
the mute objects around her.

The features were unlovely, harsh, and no longer youthful, the brows
almost met over the light grey eyes, the hair, thick but not soft, hung
over the pale brow like a heavy shadow. The only charm in this stern
visage, the full mouth with its dazzlingly white teeth, had a decided
approach to a mustache, and by its habitual expression of gloomy
defiance seemed to contradict the idea that this face could ever wish
to please. The same avoidance of all desire for comeliness was visible
in the dress. But even the most clumsy folds could not wholly conceal
the fact that the masculine head was placed on a most exquisite female
figure.

She stood quietly by the table, opposite to Lorinser, who without
waiting for her invitation, had thrown himself upon the little sofa and
was scanning the apartment with his lightning like side glance. With a
careless gesture of the hand he invited her to sit down beside him, but
she remained standing motionless, with folded arms.

"Honored Fraeulein," said he, "I have heard so much of your talent, my
friend Doctor Edwin, your fellow lodger, has just confirmed it so
warmly, that it seems to me like a direct interposition of Providence
that I have now found my way to you. My business can be stated in two
words. Some friends who were not satisfied with the public worship of
the church, have for some time arranged a quiet service of their own,
in which music occupies an important part. The lady who formerly played
the harmonium, has gone away. There is no one among us who could take
her place, so I undertook to provide a substitute. I thought of you,
Fraeulein. That you are no virtuoso of the common stamp, but a person to
whom the mysterious nature of true, genuine music is revealed, I see by
a single glance at that book, in which I read the names of Bach and
Glueck, and--allow me to speak frankly--one look into your eyes, which
beam with a deeper radiance than those of ordinary women. Those eyes
bear witness that your music is your religion. I will not conceal from
you that this point of view does not yet seem to me the highest one. To
me, music is only a stepping stone to divine happiness, though
certainly on