knees together till they
ached and trembled. Why in the world should this happen to her and to
no one else? She put her handkerchief to her lips, and forced herself
to think of the beam of light which she had seen flash out from the
lighthouse and disappear again, leaving the sea ghostly in the
darkness. But no! her thoughts would return; they would not be
controlled. Nothing could check the first sob, it would break out.
Before all the astonished eyes she rose, left her seat, slipped
quietly from the room and got away. No one came with her; no one dared
to be seen near her.

You who read this, do you realise how dreadful it was? Have you been
to such a--I had nearly written _silent_--concert, in a Norwegian
coast town of somewhat pietist savour? Hardly any men are present.
Either music is not to the masculine taste in the coast towns, or they
are in some other part of the club, at billiards, or cards, or in the
restaurant drinking punch, or reading the papers. Two or three perhaps
have come up for a moment, and stand near the door, stand like those
to whom the house belongs, and who wish to have a look at the
strangers; or there really are one or two men sitting on the benches,
squeezed in among the many coloured dresses, or else a few specimens
are seen round the walls, like forgotten overcoats.

No! those who gather at the concerts are from the harems of the place;
their elder inhabitants come to dream again, amidst beautiful words
and touching music, of what they once persuaded themselves that they
were, and what they had once believed was awaiting them. It is a
harmless passing amusement. In the main they are better understood up
above than here below, so that if a whiff of the kitchen or a few
household worries do find their way into the dreams, it does not
disturb them. The younger denizens of the harems dream that they _are_
what the elders once believed themselves, and that _they_ will attain
at least to something of what the eldest have never reached. _They_
had gained some information about life. In one thing old and young
resemble each other; they are practical and prosperous by descent.
They never allow their thoughts to stray very far. They know quite
well that the glow which they feel as they listen to the words and
music of great minds is not to be taken too seriously; it is only
"What one always feels, you know."

When, therefore, one among them took this really seriously and began
to cry about it,