ons of these hours, the gayety, and the unusual
indulgence in wine, fairly intoxicated her senses. A wild, fiendish
rage took possession of her soul. When the aria from Mozart was over,
she said curtly: "You are not in good voice, child; the champagne is
beginning to revenge itself. You mustn't sing another note, or you'll
be terribly hoarse to-morrow." And without heeding Marquard's
remonstrance, she commenced a stormy improvisation. A string broke with
a rattling sound--she did not notice it; a second and third--she played
steadily on. Mohr, who had pushed his chair behind hers, while Marquard
sat in the darkness on a little sofa beside Adele, was in a perfect
delirium of ecstacy. He had never heard her play so before, and was
musician enough to say to himself that the greatest masters would be
delighted if they could hear her improvise in such a mood. More than
once he turned toward the two couples and enthusiastically tossing his
long arms, endeavored to attract their attention to what this wonderful
genius was producing. But he seemed to be alone in his admiration, at
least to Marquard as he incessantly whispered in the ear of the singer,
this remarkable playing seemed nothing more than the roaring of a
storm, and Edwin, at this moment, believing himself unnoticed as the
light without had at last wholly died away, had caught a curl of
Toinette's hair and was holding it in his hand. Now he cautiously bent
forward and pretending to fasten the string of the curtain, hastily
pressed the soft tress to his lips. At the same moment the fourth
string snapped, a sharp discord rang through the powerful passages, and
the player started up pushing back her chair. "No more!" she cried in a
hollow tone. "It's killing me! Air! Air!"

"For God's sake, Fraeulein, what is the matter!" exclaimed Mohr, who had
also sprung to his feet. "You're tottering, you'll faint--here, lean on
me--shall I get you some water, take you into the open air?"

"No, no, it's over! Leave me! Why do you seize me so rudely? I'm well,
perfectly well--at least I shall be perfectly well when I'm alone. The
wine, the music, the darkness--give me my hat and cloak, I'll go out
into the air a moment, then it will all pass off."

In the greatest perplexity he did as she requested, but she had spoken
in so low a tone that the others scarcely noticed what was passing at
the piano. Marquard alone hastily cast a glance at her. "Is the
champagne revenging itself on yo