"Well, grandpapa, my voice has not exactly deteriorated in the last few months, has it?" she asked, teasingly, "but it does not seem to please Herr von Eschenhagen. He does not say a word about it."
She glanced with a childish pout over at Willibald, who now also arose and approached the piano. A slight flush suffused his face, and his usually quiet eyes flashed as he said in a low tone: "Oh, it was beautiful, very beautiful!"
The young singer may have been accustomed to other compliments, but she felt the deep, honest admiration in the laconic words, and knew very well the impression the song had made. She smiled, therefore, as she replied: "Yes, the song is beautiful. I have always had a regular triumph when I sang it as an addition to my rôle."
"To your rôle!" replied Willibald, not understanding the expression.
"Yes, in the play from which I have just returned. Oh, it has been a splendid success, grandpapa. The manager would gladly have prolonged it, but I had already given the greater part of my vacation to it, and I wished to be with you at least a few weeks."
The young lord listened with increasing astonishment.
Play! vacation! manager! What could all that mean? The doctor saw his surprise.
"Herr von Eschenhagen does not know your vocation, my child," he said, quietly. "My granddaughter has been educated for the opera."
"How dryly you say that, grandpapa!" cried Marietta, springing up. Straightening herself to the fullest height of her dainty figure, she added, with mock solemnity: "For five months a member of the highly respected Ducal Court Theatre, a person of official honors and renown!"
Member of the Court Theatre! Willibald almost shuddered at those awful words. The obedient son of his mother shared her disdain of "actresses." Involuntarily he receded a step and glared horrified at the young lady who had imparted such awful news to him. She laughed merrily at this motion.