"But I cannot excuse her leaving you in the street like that, and I am afraid I cannot allow you to go out with her, if there is a chance of such a thing occurring again."
"Oh, mother, please don't say that, and please don't say anything to her about it, for I think she is very sensitive and high-strung, and it really was my fault for being so stupid as to forget where I put the keys."
"That may have been a part of the trouble, but a woman of Frau Burg-Schmidt's experience should know better than to desert a young girl like you at this time of night in a foreign city." Then seeing Nan's look of distress, she added, "However, we will not talk any more about it now, but provide against such a contingency next time. Did you have good places?"
"Very good; that is, it was a fine place for hearing the music, and all the musical people prefer it to the parquet or the balcony where the seats are much higher priced. And, mother, I might have gone in my school dress for all it mattered. People wear anything; flannel blouses, queer reform frocks which look perfectly dreadful on the fat women—all sorts of funny rigs are worn. They sit around and munch chocolate or take rolls from their bags and nibble those between the acts or eat pretzels. It is the most free and easy place I ever saw. For all that, there was perfect order, not a whisper while the music was going on. Of course the lights are turned down during the performance and are only turned up when the curtain drops. Every one was so absorbed and didn't dream of talking or looking bored as I have seen them do at home at plays."
"I must confess there is that advantage on the part of a German audience," remarked Miss Helen. "They go for the pure purpose of hearing the music, not to show their clothes nor to chatter with their friends nor because it is fashionable, and I think we may well take pattern from them in our big cities."
"And the enthusiasm," Nan went on; "it made me wild to hear them call and call for Knote and for Morena. Oh, I did enjoy it. I shall never forget this night."
"But you are forgetting to eat anything," said her mother.
"I'll drink the milk, but I really don't feel hungry, for I am too excited; besides Frau Burg-Schmidt had some chocolate with her and I ate a piece of that. I must go to bed, for Dr. Paul is coming early to see us and to return the key. I have had such a glorious time, mother dear, so please forget the adventure part of it."
"Don't lie awake thinking about Lohengrin," said her mother kissing her good-night.
"I'll try not."