e most of this isolated triumph; they did so, and were entertained by
Schwarz at a special dinner, where many healths were drunk.

Those who had "made their PRUFUNG," as the phrase ran, were, as a rule,
glad to leave Leipzig when the ordeal was behind them. But Dove, who,
on the day following his performance, when his name was to be read in
the newspapers accompanied by various epithets of praise, had proposed
and been accepted, and was this time returning to England a solemnly
engaged man--Dove waited a week for his fiancee and her family, who had
not been prepared for so sudden a move. He was the man of the hour. As
a response to the flattering notices, he had called on all his critics,
and been received by several; and he could hardly walk a street-length,
without running the gauntlet of some belated congratulation. Schwarz
had spoken seriously to him about prosecuting his studies for a further
year, with the not impossible prospect of a performance in the
Gewandhaus at the end of it; but Dove had laid before his master the
reasons why this could not be: he was no longer a free man; there were
now other wishes to be consulted in addition to his own. Besides, if
the truth must be told, Dove had higher aims, and these led him
imperatively back to England.

Madeleine was ready to leave a couple of days after her last
performance. Her plans for the future were fixed and sure. She had long
ago given up making adventurous schemes for storming America: that had
merely been her contribution to the romance of the place. Now she was
hastening away to spend the month of March in Paris; she was not due at
the school to which she was returning till the end of April; and, in
Paris, she intended to take a brief course of finishing lessons, to rub
off what she called "German thoroughness." She, too, had made a highly
successful exit, though without creating a furore like Dove. Since all
she did was well done, it was not possible for her to be a surprise to
anyone.

And finally, the rush she had lived in for weeks past, was over, the
last afternoon had come, and, in its course, she went to the railway
station to make arrangements about her luggage. On her way home, she
entered Klemm's music-shop, where she stood, for a considerable time,
taking leave of one and another. When she emerged again, the town had
assumed that spectral look, which, towards evening, made the quaint old
gabled streets so attractive.

For the first time, Ma