to
marry Franz that she spoke of a _dot_. And Franz is of course very poor
and has a great family of brothers and sisters to help support. You will
know Franz one day. You did not speak very nicely of Franz that time,
you know; that was another reason why I thought you were so angry. And
it made me angry, too," said Karen, smiling at him.

"Wasn't I nice? I am sure Franz is."

"Oh, so good and kind and true. And very talented. And his mother would
be a wonderful musician if she had not so many children to take care of;
that has harmed her music. And she, too, is a golden-hearted person; she
used often to help me with my dresses. Do you remember that little white
silk dress of mine? perhaps so; I wore it at the concert, such a pretty
dress, I think. Frau Lippheim helped me with that--she and a little
German seamstress in Leipsig. I see us now, all bending over the
rustling silk, round the table with the lamp on it. We had to make it so
quickly. Tante had sent for me to come to her in Vienna and I had
nothing to wear at the great concert she was to give. We sat up till
twelve to finish it. Franz and Lotta cooked our supper for us and we
only stopped long enough to eat. Dear Frau Lippheim. Some day you will
know all the Lippheims."

He listened to her with dreamy, amused delight, seeing her bending in
the ugly German room over the little white silk dress and only vaguely
aware of the queer figures she put before him. He had no inclination to
know Franz and his mother, and no curiosity about them. But Karen
continued. "That is the one, the only thing I can give you," she said,
reflecting. "You know so few artists, don't you; so few people of
talent. As to people, your life is narrow, isn't it so? I have met so
many great people in my life, first through my father and then through
Tante. Painters, poets, musicians. You will probably know them now, too;
some of them certainly, for some are also friends of mine. Strepoff, for
example; oh--how I shall like you to meet him. You have read him, of
course, and about his escape from Siberia and his long exile."

"Strepoff? Yes, I think so. A dismal sort of fellow, isn't he?"

Gregory's delight was merging now in a more definite amusement, tinged,
it may be confessed, with alarm. He remembered to have seen a photograph
of this celebrity, very turbulently haired and very fixed and fiery of
eye. He remembered a large bare throat and a defiant neck-tie. He had no
wish to make Stre