prolonged thunders of applause, the portly brewer, Mr. Brown himself,
leading off again and again.

"Now let the tenor sing alone," he said, for, though a coarse man, he
was hearty and good-natured.

The audience emphatically echoed his wish, but Dennis as decidedly
shook his head.

Then came a cry, "Miss Ludolph and the tenor again"; and the audience
took it up with a clamor that would not be denied.

Christine looked inquiringly at Dennis, and he replied in a low tone,
"You command me this evening."

Again she thanked him with her eyes, and from a music stand near
chose a magnificent duet from Mendelssohn, in which he must sing several
difficult solos.

"Act your pleasure. I am familiar with it," he said, smiling at the
way she had circumvented him in his refusal to sing alone.

Christine sat down and played her own accompaniment, while Dennis stood
at her side. He determined to do his best and prove that though he
swept a store he could also do something else. Many of the strains
were plaintive, and his deep and unconscious feeling for his fair
companion in song gave to his voice a depth, and at times a pathos,
that both thrilled and _touched_ the heart, and there were not a few wet
eyes in the audience. Unconsciously to himself and all around, he was
singing his love; and even Christine, though much preoccupied with her