she gazed out at the bare treetops, bathed in
the crimson glow, with her head and shoulders likewise steeped in the
radiance of the sunset, her lips parted as if her very soul were
absorbed in the lingering beauties of the day, he forgot his self
control, and gazed steadily into her face. The room was quite dark; two
candles only illumined the table still crowded with the empty bottles
and half filled glasses, and lighted up Marquard's pleasant features,
as he sat alone smoking his cigar and looking intently through the
round glasses of his gold spectacles at the piano. Mohr had thrown
himself down on a stool beside the musician, Adele was tripping lightly
up and down the room, singing to herself in a low tone and sometimes
with a coquettish gesture throwing at her friend, who continued to
smoke phlegmatically, a grape, from the cluster which, in bacchanalian
fashion she had fastened to the gold circlet on her head.

"You have been very charming to-day," Edwin whispered to Toinette. "I
thank you for the conquests you have made of my friends. I'm vain
enough to think you did it partly for my sake. If Balder had only seen
you!"

"Why?"

"Because I always think of him, whenever anything pleases me; because I
wish him to share my pleasures with me. Have you never had the same
feeling toward your sisters?"

"I would gladly have felt it, but I never could succeed. Each thought
only of herself, her few miserable trinkets, her lovers, and the next
casino-ball. I really think sisters are scarcely capable of what you
call brotherly, love. But hush; she's beginning to sing. Who would have
supposed there was so much music in the queer little doll!"

In fact a flood of melody now filled the room, as Adele sang
Pergolese's morning serenade:

"Tre giorni son che Nina
Al letto se ne sta."

Christiane accompanied her. The worn out instrument under her hands was
fairly transformed, and gave forth tones of which it had probably
scarcely been capable in its best days. When the charming little song
was finished, Marquard rose and solemnly kissed the singer's hand.
"Brava, bravissima! You're the singing-bounding-lion-teaser in the
fairy tale."

"An _in_cantatrice!" cried Mohr from his dark corner after having made
a terrible noise applauding alone.

"Spare your enthusiasm, gentlemen," laughed the saucy girl, turning on
her heel. "There are better things in store! And the lion's share of
the lion teaser bel