The chorus and singers on the little stage exchanged smiles.
"I want your first violin," said her highness.
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.