Her heart beat for this man, not only with the artist's desire to satisfy
the connoisseur, no, but with stormy passion--she felt it now; yet,
though the god of love was called a blind boy, she had retained the full,
clear strength of vision and the absolute power of discernment.

No one, not even the handsomest young knight, could compare in her eyes
with the mature, powerful guide of the destiny of many millions, whose
lofty brow was illumined by the grandeur of his intellect, and with whose
name the memory of glorious victories was associated. The pride
justified by his birth had led him from one lofty deed to another, and
he could not help carrying his head so high, for how far all the rest of
mankind lay beneath him! There was no living mortal to whom the Emperor
Charles would have been obliged to look up, or before whom he need bow
his head at all.

She would fain have been able to stamp his image deeply, ineffaceably
upon her soul. But, alas!

Just at that moment a short, imperious sound reached her ear.
Appenzelder had struck the desk with his baton. The Benedictio must
begin at once, and now her breath was really coming so quickly that it
seemed impossible for her to sing in this condition.

Deeply troubled, she pressed her hand upon her bosom.

Then the cruel, tyrannical baton struck the wood a second time, and----

But what did this mean?

The Emperor had left his elderly companion after she was seated at the