r, hide some of that still passion
of which her daughter was all-compact?

"That last summer at home wasn't very nice for her," Mrs. Kronborg began
as placidly as if the fire had never leaped up in her. "The other
children were acting-up because they thought I might make a fuss over
her and give her the big-head. We gave her the dare, somehow, the lot of
us, because we couldn't understand her changing teachers and all that.
That's the trouble about giving the dare to them quiet, unboastful
children; you never know how far it'll take 'em. Well, we ought not to
complain, doctor; she's given us a good deal to think about."

The next time Dr. Archie came to Moonstone, he came to be a pall-bearer
at Mrs. Kronborg's funeral. When he last looked at her, she was so
serene and queenly that he went back to Denver feeling almost as if he
had helped to bury Thea Kronborg herself. The handsome head in the
coffin seemed to him much more really Thea than did the radiant young
woman in the picture, looking about at the Gothic vaultings and greeting
the Hall of Song.

IV

ONE bright morning late in February Dr. Archie was breakfasting
comfortably at the Waldorf. He had got into Jersey City on an early
train, and a red, windy sunrise over the North River had given him a
good appetite. He consulted the morning paper while he drank his coffee
and saw that "Lohengrin" was to be sung at the opera that evening. In
the list of the artists who would appear was the name "Kronborg." Such
abruptness rather startled him. "Kronborg": it was impressive and yet,
somehow, disrespectful; somewhat rude and brazen, on the back page of
the morning paper. After breakfast he went to the hotel ticket office
and asked the girl if she could give him something for "Lohengrin,"
"near the front." His manner was a trifle awkward and he wondered
whether the girl noticed it. Even if she did, of course, she could
scarcely suspect. Before the ticket stand he saw a bunch of blue posters
announcing the opera casts for the week. There was "Lohengrin," and
under it he saw:--

ELSA VON BRABANT...Thea Kronborg.

That looked better. The girl gave him a ticket for a seat which she said
was excellent. He paid for it and went out to the cabstand. He mentioned
to the driver a number on Riverside Drive and got into a taxi. It would
not, of course, be the right thing to call upon Thea when she was going
to sing in the evening. He knew that much, thank goodness! F