She laid her cheek in the palm of her hand and gave him a searching
look. Reinhard raised his glass to his mouth.

"Here's to your beautiful, wicked eyes!" he said, and drank.

She laughed and tossed her head.

"Give it here," she said, and fastening her black eyes on his, she
slowly drank what was left in the glass. Then she struck a chord and
sang in a deep, passionate voice:

To-day, to-day thou think'st me
Fairest maid of all;
To-morrow, ah! then beauty
Fadeth past recall.
While the hour remaineth,
Thou art yet mine own;
Then when death shall claim me,
I must die alone.

While the fiddler struck up an allegro finale, a new arrival joined
the group.

"I went to call for you, Reinhard," he said, "You had already gone
out, but Santa Claus had paid you a visit."

"Santa Claus?" said Reinhard. "Santa Claus never comes to me now."

"Oh, yes, he does! The whole of your room smelt of Christmas tree and
ginger cakes."