e so
gloriously endowed as Beethoven; it seemed strange that a thinking,
intellectual being would grasp the less when he might lay hold on the
greater. I glanced around on the gay, richly-dressed throng--pretty
women in garments as harmonious in form and color almost as the music
that was thrilling at least some of us; some of them fair enough, I
fancied, to be walking in a better world than ours; then, by some strange
freak of the imagination, I fell to thinking of the poverty and sorrow,
and breaking hearts all about us, until the music seemed to change to a
minor chord; and away back of all other sounds I seemed to hear the sob
and moan of the dying and broken-hearted. Perhaps some new chord had been
touched in my own heart that had never before responded to human things;
for in spite of myself I sat and wept with a full, aching heart. I tried
to shield my face with my fan and at last regained my composure, and
tried, in sly fashion, to dry my eyes with the bit of lace I called my
handkerchief, and which I found a very poor substitute for the
substantial lawn hitherto used. At last I regained my composure
sufficiently to look up, when I found Mr. Bovyer regarding me keenly. He
glanced away, but after that his manner grew sympathetic, and on our way
home he said,

"I am glad to know you can understand great musical conceptions."

"I found it very, very sad. I scarce ever realized how much pain there
might be in this world, as for a little while I did to-night."

"The tears were sorrowful then, and not glad?" he said, gently.

"My tears are always that. I cannot conceive a joy so great as to make me
weep."

"Your heart is not fully wakened yet, some day you will understand; but
be thankful you can understand a part. Not many at your age feel the
master's touch so keenly." When we said good-night, he asked permission
to call next day. I waited for Mrs. Flaxman to reply, and turned to her,
seeing she hesitated. She smiled and I could see answered for me.

"We shall be happy to see you. Mr. Winthrop receives his friends, I
believe, to-morrow evening." As we went to our rooms she said:--"Won't
it be wonderful if you have captivated Mr. Bovyer's heart?--I am sure Mr.
Winthrop considered him a safe escort, so far as love entanglements
were concerned."

"That old man thinking of love! He looks as if he thought much more of
his dinner than anything else."

"Probably he does bestow some attention on it; but he is not o