as the papers stated the next morning, "the
large hall was crowded to its utmost capacity
with a select and highly appreciative audience."
Edith must have played her part of the performance
skillfully, for as he walked out upon
the stage, he was welcomed with an enthusiastic
burst of applause, as if he had been a world-
renowned artist. At Edith's suggestion, her
two favorite nocturnes had been placed first
upon the programme; then followed one of
those ballads of Chopin, whose rhythmic din and
rush sweep onward, beleaguering the ear like
eager, melodious hosts, charging in thickening
ranks and columns, beating impetuous retreats,
and again uniting with one grand emotion the
wide-spreading army of sound for the final
victory. Besides these, there was one of Liszt's
"Rhapsodies Hongroises," an impromptu by
Schubert, and several orchestral pieces; but the
greater part of the programme was devoted
to Chopin, because Halfdan, with his great,
hopeless passion laboring in his breast, felt that
he could interpret Chopin better than he could
any other composer. He carried his audience
by storm. As he retired to the dressing-room,
after having finished the last piece, his friends,
among whom Edith and Mrs. Van Kirk were
the most conspicuous, thronged about him,
showering their praises and congratulations
upon him. They insisted with much friendly