or the first time in her life. Now, 'fess up, aren't you,
Herr Deichenberg?"

"No, no; I have not de slightest doubt of dat."

"Then you are worrying because you fear some of the other numbers on
the programme will not come up to your expectations. Now, aren't
you?"

"No, no, Miss Dorothy. No; I do not vorry--of course, there
iss dat young lady who is to render de piano selections from
'Faust'--er--yet, I have no cause to vorry. No, no, I--"

Dorothy interrupted with a laugh.

"Your troubled expression as you said that gave you away, Herr. But I
suppose it is very bold and impudent of me to tease you about these
matters."

The Herr smiled.

"Oh, you just tease me all you vant--I like it. But really, if I vass
vorried, I vould tell you--surely I vould. Er--if dat young lady vill
just remember vhat I haf told her, she--"

Again the troubled expression flitted over Herr Deichenberg's
countenance, and Dorothy, seeing that he was really worried though he
would not admit it, decided not to tease him further.

He soon took his departure, and the girl rushed away to tell Aunt
Betty that the Herr was well satisfied with her work, then to talk
incessantly for half an hour about the coming event. The concert was
by far the largest affair that had ever loomed up on Miss Dorothy's
horizon, and she naturally could not get it off her mind.

The great opera house in which the concert was to be held was packed
with people the next evening.

Dorothy, on the stage, peeping through a little hole in the curtain,
saw one of the most fashionable audiences old Baltimore had ever
turned out--the largest, in fact, Herr Deichenberg had ever drawn to
one of his affairs, though the drawing power of the old professor had
always been something to talk about.

Entering the stage entrance early in the evening, dressed in an
elaborate white evening gown, made expressly for this occasion at one
of the great dressmaking establishments, Dorothy had deposited her
violin in her dressing-room and sallied forth to view the wonders of
Fairyland--for such the stage, with its many illusions and mysteries,
seemed to her.

She took great care to keep out of the way of the stage hands, who
rushed back and forth, dragging great pieces of scenery over the
stage as if they were but bits of pasteboard. Drops were let down,
set pieces put in place, until, right before the eyes of the girl, a
picture, beautiful indeed, had appeared. Where there had been