equately,
with the end in view. Every phrase she sang was basic. She simply WAS
the idea of the Rhine music." Ottenburg rose and stood with his back to
the fire. "And at the end, where you don't see the maidens at all, the
same thing again: two pretty voices AND the Rhine voice." Fred snapped
his fingers and dropped his hand.

The doctor looked up at him enviously. "You see, all that would be lost
on me," he said modestly. "I don't know the dream nor the interpretation
thereof. I'm out of it. It's too bad that so few of her old friends can
appreciate her."

"Take a try at it," Fred encouraged him. "You'll get in deeper than you
can explain to yourself. People with no personal interest do that."

"I suppose," said Archie diffidently, "that college German, gone to
seed, wouldn't help me out much. I used to be able to make my German
patients understand me."

"Sure it would!" cried Ottenburg heartily. "Don't be above knowing your
libretto. That's all very well for musicians, but common mortals like
you and me have got to know what she's singing about. Get out your
dictionary and go at it as you would at any other proposition. Her
diction is beautiful, and if you know the text you'll get a great deal.
So long as you're going to hear her, get all that's coming to you. You
bet in Germany people know their librettos by heart! You Americans are
so afraid of stooping to learn anything."

"I AM a little ashamed," Archie admitted. "I guess that's the way we
mask our general ignorance. However, I'll stoop this time; I'm more
ashamed not to be able to follow her. The papers always say she's such a
fine actress." He took up the tongs and began to rearrange the logs that
had burned through and fallen apart. "I suppose she has changed a great
deal?" he asked absently.

"We've all changed, my dear Archie,--she more than most of us. Yes, and
no. She's all there, only there's a great deal more of her. I've had
only a few words with her in several years. It's better not, when I'm
tied up this way. The laws are barbarous, Archie."

"Your wife is--still the same?" the doctor asked sympathetically.

"Absolutely. Hasn't been out of a sanitarium for seven years now. No
prospect of her ever being out, and as long as she's there I'm tied hand
and foot. What does society get out of such a state of things, I'd like
to know, except a tangle of irregularities? If you want to reform,
there's an opening for you!"

"It's bad, oh, very bad; I a