"Hear him," laughed Barth, touching Ingenhaus on the elbow.
Therese, meanwhile, was growing embarrassed; and, looking to Mesmer for encouragement she lost sight of every thing under the influence of his eyes. Her father held the paper before her, but she was not aware of it. The audience whispered, but Mesmer at that moment, turning away from Therese, she sighed, and, recovering her self-possession, took the paper and placed it before the harpsichord.
"March, from 'OEdipus,'" said she, seating herself before the instrument.
"Why, Therese," cried her father, "you read the title without turning to the title-page."
"I saw the piece when it was handed to you by Ritter Gluck."
"You are acquainted with Gluck?" asked Von Paradies. "He has never been to our house."
"I have seen him at Doctor Mesmer's," replied Therese.
"Ah, indeed! Ritter Gluck, who hands the music, is like Baron von Horka, who brought the book, a friend of Mesmer's," said Von Paradies, with a sneer that affrighted his daughter and made her tremble.
But she placed her hands upon the keys and began to play.
The enraptured audience again forgot her eyes, and, entranced by the music, hung breathless upon her notes, while she executed the magnificent funeral march in "OEdipus." Suddenly, at the conclusion of a passage of exquisite beauty, she ceased, and her hands wandered feebly over the keys, Her father, who was turning the leaves, looked almost scornfully at the poor girl; who, alarmed and bewildered by his unaccountable conduct, grew deadly pale, and finally, with a deep sigh, closed her eyes.