The applause was uproarious at the end of the concert. Let—it—fall. ‘Very clever, Mademoiselle Melusine. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. Submission to the inevitable carried her through the circumstances of her appearance before the magistrate. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. "Sold a good many, though.
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