And then the question forces itself upon Elsa's soul, it becomes its deepest need, and in that evil hour she sets it above love. There is the thrilling vision and Lohengrin's rebuke, and Violet listens and looks like one entranced. Elsa asks her fateful question, and the enchantment is gone. Ah, can any tears, any prayers bring him back? Can all the divine passion and repentance of one's life prevail?
The lovely color goes out of Violet's face; it seems for a moment as if she would faint. How can all these women keep from crying out in their anguish?
"Mignonne," the professor says, softly, and takes her hand, "come out of thy too passionate dream. That is the musician's soul, but it is not daily food."
Her eyes are blind with tears, and she is glad to rise with the crowd and go.
Gertrude Grandon's brief engagement is shortened by nearly a fortnight on account of a literary meeting at Chicago that the professor must attend. So Christmas day at two o'clock they go to church, Gertrude in dark blue cloth, that is extremely becoming, and fits her tall, slender figure to perfection; just under the brim of her bonnet are two pale-pink crush roses, the only tint of color. No one could imagine so much improvement possible. Floyd gives her away also. He has endeared her by many kindnesses, but the last is placing her present and possible fortune in her hands.
"But if you should never be able to get it all out of the business?" she asks, and her eyes moisten.
"Then," he answers, "the rest is my wedding gift to you. I should like to make it much larger."
"O Floyd, what a good brother you have been! And we have never thought of anything but just our own selves," she adds, remorsefully.
"Yes," he rejoins, "you have thought of Violet."
Then they all go down to the city to see Gertrude start on her new journey. Floyd and the professor wring each other's hands,—they have been like brothers so long! Surely, even if he had thought of it, he could have wished Gertrude no better fate. He is curiously moved by the professor's very earnest regard, though he knows it must half be pity, tenderness. His face is bright and cheerful, and his voice rings out heartily. He will bring back Frau Freilgrath so stout and rosy that no one will recognize her.