n him, as she did
that other habit of impulsive action in trifles. Nay, more, she found
keen pleasure in excusing it. 'Dear thing!' she reflected, 'he forgets
so.' Therefore she waited, content in enjoying the image in the glass of
her dark face, her small plump person, and her Paris gown--that dream!
She thought with assuaged grief of her father's tragedy; she would have
liked him to see her now, the jewel in the case--her father and she had
understood each other.

All around, and above and below, she felt, without hearing it, the
activity of the opulent, complex life of the mansions. Her mind dwelt
with satisfaction on long carpeted corridors noiselessly paraded by
flunkeys, mahogany lifts continually ascending and descending like the
angels of the ladder, the great entrance hall with its fire always
burning and its doors always swinging, the _salle a manger_ sown with
rose-shaded candles, and all the splendid privacies rising stage upon
stage to the attics, where the flunkeys philosophized together. She
confessed the beauty and distinction achieved by this extravagant
organization for gratifying earthly desires. Often, in the pinching days
of her servitude, she had murmured against the injustice of things, and
had called wealth a crime while poverty starved. But now she perceived
that society was what it was inevitably, and could not be altered. She
accepted it in profound peace of mind, gaily fraternal towards the
fortunate, compassionate towards those in adversity.

In the next flat someone began to play very brilliantly a Hungarian
Rhapsody of Liszt's. And even the faint sound of that riotous torrent of
melody, so arrogantly gorgeous, intoxicated her soul. She shivered under
the sudden vision of the splendid joy of being alive. And how she envied
the player! French she had learned from 'Madame,' but she had no skill
on the piano; it was her one regret.

She touched the bell.

'Has your master come in yet?' she inquired of the maid.

'No, madam, not yet.'

She knew he had not come in, but she could not resist the impulse to
ask.

Ten minutes later, when the piano had ceased, she jumped up, and,
creeping to the front-door of the flat, gazed foolishly across the
corridor at the grille of the lift. She heard the lift in travail. It
appeared and passed out of sight above. No, he had not come! Glancing
aside, she saw the tall slender figure of a girl in a green tea-gown--a
mere girl: it was the player of the Hu