ne. The light of two
lonely lives was put out. Was our darling right or wrong in that
persistent _auf wiedersehen_ of his?

CHAPTER XXVI.

Resignation! Welch' elendes Hulfsmittel! und doch bleibt es mir das
einzig Uebrige--_Briefe_ BEETHOVEN'S.

Several small events which took place at this time had all their
indirect but strong bearing on the histories of the characters in this
veracious narrative. The great concert of the "Passions-musik" of Bach
came off on the very evening of Sigmund's departure. It was, I confess,
with some fear and trembling that I went to call Eugen to his duties,
for he had not emerged from his own room since he had gone into it to
send Sigmund away.

He raised his face as I came in; he was sitting looking out of the
window, and told me afterward that he had sat there, he believed, ever
since he had been unable to catch another glimpse of the carriage which
bore his darling away from him.

"What is it, Friedel?" he asked, when I came in.

I suggested in a subdued tone that the concert began in half an hour.

"Ah, true!" said he, rising; "I must get ready. Let me see, what is it?"

"The 'Passions-musik.'"

"To be sure! Most appropriate music! I feel as if I could write a
Passion Music myself just now."

We had but to cross the road from our dwelling to the concert-room. As
we entered the corridor two ladies also stepped into it from a very
grand carriage. They were accompanied by a young man, who stood a little
to one side to let them pass; and as they came up and we came up, von
Francius came up too.

One of the ladies was May Wedderburn, who was dressed in black, and
looked exquisitely lovely to my eyes, and, I felt, to some others, with
her warm auburn hair in shining coils upon her head. The other was a
woman in whose pale, magnificent face I traced some likeness to our
fair singer, but she was different; colder, grander, more severe. It
so happened that the ladies barred the way as we arrived, and we had
to stand by for a few moments as von Francius shook hands with Miss
Wedderburn, and asked her smilingly if she were in good voice.

She answered in the prettiest broken German I ever heard, and then
turned to the lady, saying:

"Adelaide, may I introduce Herr von Francius--Lady Le Marchant."

A stately bow from the lady--a deep reverence, with a momentary glance
of an admiration warmer than I had ever seen in his eyes, on the part
of von Francius--a glance which was