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"I want your first violin," said her highness. "Anton!" A youth stood up in the orchestral pit. "Now, your Highness?" said the Herr Direktor. "Try her voice." And the Herr Direktor saw that she was not smiling. He bade the violinist to draw his bow over a single note.
"Imitate it, Gretchen," commanded her highness; "and don't be afraid of the Herr Direktor or of the ladies and gentlemen in the gallery." Gretchen lifted her voice. It was sweeter and mellower than the violin. "Again!" the Herr Direktor cried, no longer curious. Without apparent effort Gretchen passed from one note to another, now high, now low, or strong or soft; a trill, a run.
But that will not hinder. I shall have enough for two." Gretchen saw no reason why she should tell them of the princess' generosity. "But how does he take it?" asked Carmichael, with a motion of his head toward the vintner, half hidden behind a newspaper. "He doesn't like the idea at all. But the Herr Direktor says that I am a singer, and that some day I shall be rich and famous."
Nor must we overlook that reverend pastor and Koranic scholar who distributed anti-Christian and more especially anti-British propaganda by means of native emissaries. Last but not least, the Herr Direktor of the Hejaz Railway, who was collecting railway material for Sinai before war broke out.
And madam, his wife, and he are making a grand tour of the world. Their wedding trip, I believe. Sie kommt von einer der ersten Familien the Dalrymples. Der Herr Direktor of the Russicher-Chinese bank told me. He cashes the drafts Her Gott nicht kleine!" These prosaic details the Frenchman, pictorially occupied, hardly, heard. "Mon Dieu! What a chapeau!" he sighed.
"She lives in Dreiberg, and till this morning I doubt if I ever saw her before." The Herr Direktor stared blankly from her highness to Gretchen, and back to her highness again. Then he grasped it. Here was one of those moments when the gods make gifts to mortals. "Can you read music?" he asked. "No, Herr," said Gretchen. "That is bad. You have a great voice, Fräulein. Well, I shall teach you.
From these lessons he had to hasten to rehearsal at the theater. Often he had no time for lunch, and he used to carry a piece of bread and some cold meat in his pocket to eat during the interval. Sometimes he had to take the place of Tobias Pfeiffer, the Musik Direktor, who was interested in him, and sometimes had him to conduct the orchestra rehearsals instead of himself.
Her highness nodded at them brightly. "Good morning, Herr Direktor." "Good morning, your Highness." "I have brought you a prima donna," touching Gretchen with her whip. The Herr Direktor showed his teeth; her highness was always playing some jest. "What shall she sing in, your Highness? We are rehearsing The Bohemian Girl." The chorus and singers on the little stage exchanged smiles.
Her wooden shoes made a clatter whenever they left the rugs, but she stepped as lightly as she could. She heard music and voices presently, and the former she recognized. As her highness entered the Bijou Theater, the Herr Direktor stopped the music. In the little gallery, which served as the royal box, sat several ladies and gentlemen of the court, the grand duke being among them.
The grand duke in the gallery leaned over the velvet-buffered railing. All realized that a great voice was being tried before them. The Herr Direktor struck his music-stand sharply. It was enough. "Your highness has played a fine jest this day. Where does madame your guest sing, in Berlin or Vienna?" "In neither," answered her highness, mightily gratified with Gretchen's success.
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