room one
day, to find a note from Madeleine, saying that she expected Louise
that very afternoon at three.

It was not news to Maurice that Louise had come home. The evening
before, as he turned out of the BRUDERSTRASSE, a closed droschke turned
into it. After the vehicle had lumbered past him and disappeared, the
thought crossed his mind that she might be inside it. He had not then
had time to go back but early this very morning, he had passed the
house and found the windows open. So Madeleine had engaged her
immediately! As usual, Furst had kept him waiting for his lesson; it
was nearly three o'clock already, and he was so hurried that he could
only change his collar; but, on the way there, in a sudden spurt of
gratitude, he ran to a flower-shop, and bought a large bunch of
carnations.

He arrived at Madeleine's room in an elation he did not try to hide;
and over the carnations they had a mock reconciliation. Madeleine
wished to distribute the flowers in different vases about the room, but
he asked her put them all together on the centre table. She laughed and
complied.

For several weeks now, musical circles had been in a stir over the
advent of a new piano-teacher named Schrievers--a person who called
himself a pupil of Liszt, held progressive views, arid, being a free
lance, openly ridiculed the antiquated methods of the Conservatorium.
Madeleine was extremely interested in the case, and, as they sat
waiting, talked about it to Maurice with great warmth, enlarging
especially upon the number of people who had the audacity to call
themselves pupils of Liszt. To Maurice, in his present frame of mind,
the matter seemed of no possible consequence--for all he cared, the
whole population of the town might lay claim to having been at
Weimar--and he could not understand Madeleine finding it important. For
he was in one of those moods when the entire consciousness is so
intently directed towards some end that, outside this end, nothing has
colour or vitality: all that has previously impressed and interested
one, has no more solidity than papier mache. Meanwhile she spoke on,
and did not appear to notice how time was flying. He was forced at
length to take out his watch, and exclaim, in feigned surprise, at the
hour.

"A quarter to four already!"

"Is it so late?" But on seeing his disturbance, she added: "It will be
all right. Louise was never punctual in her life."

He did his best to look unconcerned, and they sp