ay to pray for the soul of her lover, the knight
Tannhaeuser, who has gone on a pilgrimage to Rome to ask that his sins
may be forgiven him. On this last day the pilgrims have passed on their
journey homeward and among them Elizabeth sees no sign of her lost
lover, so that she knows he must be unforgiven. She then sings this
final song, asking that peace may come to her at last.

Esther wore a long white gown of _crepe de chine_ made in simple classic
lines, with the draped tunic which is a modern fashion copied after a
far older model. Ordinarily she was too tall and angular in every-day
clothes, but this toilette seemed to give her just the grace and
dignity her figure and character needed. Her red hair, which had grown a
little darker as she grew older, was tonight a crown of glory, so that
the pallor of her long grave face did not matter, for her always
beautiful mouth had a look both of power and of wistfulness that
surprised the strangers in the audience.

"The girl is far too young for the song her teacher has chosen for her,"
the critics whispered among themselves. It is not fair to make such an
experiment, for this song of Elizabeth's is one of the favorites among
the great prima donnas. What would this young girl do with it? Would she
be too theatrical, too showy, or fail altogether?

While the orchestra played the opening chords Esther waited with her
hands clasped lightly together in front of her, but not moving them with
her old nervous gesture. Neither did she seem to be looking at anything
or anybody. Not once did she even glance toward the box where her sister
and friends were watching her, though in a kind of subconscious fashion
she was aware of the white intensity in Betty's pretty face and the
look of grave strength and helpfulness in Richard Ashton's.

Then Esther began to sing--and Betty, Dick, Polly, Mrs. Ashton and
indeed all her friends, both new and old, had a sudden sensation of
bitter disappointment. The tears came into Betty's eyes, rolling
unheeded down her cheeks, though Polly slipped her hand back through the
opening in her chair to press it sympathetically. However, Richard
Ashton only set his lips, hardly breathing for the space of half a
moment. Did he not recall a similar beginning on Esther's part some
years before, when she had sung the Indian Love Song before a group of
their Woodford acquaintances, which he had at first believed would end
in a failure? Esther would not find thi