“Well, as far as that is concerned, you are a competent judge,” exclaimed Lousia, laughing, “for being Himmel (heaven), you must know how the angels sing, and your opinion cannot be disputed. The angels, then, sing incorrectly, like your obedient pupil? Let the angels do so, but not your pupil. Come, Mr. Himmel, sit down. It does not behoove the maestro to stand at the side of his pupil. Sit down.”
She pointed with a graceful wave of her hand at the chair standing at her side, and Mr. Himmel, complying with her order, sat down. His glances returned involuntarily to the queen, whose beauty only now burst on his short-sighted eyes, and whom he believed he had never seen so lovely, so fascinating and graceful. Her beautiful face seemed to him like that of a fairy queen, and her wonderful shoulders, her superb, dazzling neck, which he had never seen unveiled and so very near, appeared to him like the bust of a goddess, moulded by Phidias from living marble.
“Well, let us commence,” said the queen, calmly. “Pray play the melody in the treble and let me play the accompaniment a few times; I shall then be better able to sing the song.”
She commenced eagerly playing the prelude, while a deeper blush mantled her cheeks. It was Himmel’s turn now to begin with the melody; his eyes, however, were not fixed on the music, but on the queen, and hence he blundered sadly.
“Well?” asked the queen, looking at him in charming confusion. “You do not play correctly.”
“Yes, I have blundered, your majesty,” said Himmel, gloomily; “I have blundered, for I am only a man after all, and cannot look into the sun without having a coup de soleil. Your majesty, I have had such a coup de soleil, and you see I have lost my reason in consequence.”
With these words he bent over the queen and imprinted a glowing kiss on her shoulders; then he hastily rose, took his hat, and rushed out of the room. [Footnote: historical]
The queen’s eyes followed him with an air of surprise and embarrassment; then she burst into ringing, charming laughter.
“Ah,” she said, “if that austere ‘Madame Etiquette,’ the mistress of ceremonies, should have seen that, she would have either died with horror, or her wrath would have crushed the criminal. I believe I will confess the terrible crime to her. Oh, my dear mistress of ceremonies! my dear mistress of ceremonies!” she cried.
The door of the adjoining room opened immediately, and the Countess von Voss made her appearance.