minutes to play out.

Eugen rested his brow for a moment on his hand, and his face was hidden.
He looked up, rising as he did so, and his eyes met those of Miss
Wedderburn. So sad, so deep a gaze I never saw. It was a sign to me, a
significant one, that he could meet her eyes.

Then he turned to von Francius.

"Herr Direktor, Helfen will take my place, _nicht wahr?_"

Von Francius bowed. Eugen left his seat, made his way, without a word,
from the orchestra, and von Francius rapped sharply, the preliminary
tumult subsided; the concert began.

I glanced once or twice toward Karl; I received no answering look. I
could not even see his face; he had made himself as small as possible
behind his music.

The concert over--it seemed to me interminable--I was hastening away,
anxious only to find Eugen, when Karl Linders stopped me in a retired
corner, and holding me fast, said:

"Friedel, I am a damned fool."

"I am sorry not to be able to contradict you."

"Listen," said he. "You must listen, or I shall follow you and make
you. I made up my mind not to hear another word against him, but when
I went to _die Clara_ after the solo, I found her and that confounded
girl whispering together. She--Anna Sartorius--said it was very fine
for such scamps to cover their sins with music. I asked her pretty
stiffly what she meant, for she is always slanging Eugen, and I thought
she might have let him alone for once. She said she meant that he was a
blackguard--that's the word she used--_ein lauter Spitzbube_--a forger,
and worse. I told her I believed it was a lie. I did not believe it.

"'Ask him,' said she. I said I would be--something--first. But Clara
would have nothing to say to me, and they both badgered me until for
mere quietness I agreed to do as they wished."

He went on in distress for some time.

"Oh, drop it!" said I, impatiently. "You have done the mischief. I don't
want to listen to your whining over it. Go to the Fraeulein Steinmann
and Sartorius. They will confer the reward of merit upon you."

"_Gott behuete!_"

I shook myself loose from him and took my way home. It was with a
feeling not far removed from tremulousness that I entered the room. That
poor room formed a temple which I had no intention of desecrating.

He was sitting at the table when I entered, and looked at me absently.
Then, with a smile in which sweetness and bitterness were strangely
mingled, said:

"So! you have returned? I will not tro