The 'wicked fairy' unconsciously had a novel experience: her appearance was a relief.
As usual, she bowed and nodded on all sides, but, as she was unable for the moment to find her eye-glass, she saw nobody, and fell into the error of supposing a tall india-rubber tree in a tub before a window to be her particular friend the chamberlain Langefeld. Not until Goswyn discovered the eye-glass hanging by its slender cord among the jet ornaments and fringes with which her mantle was trimmed and humanely handed it to her, did she find out her mistake. Goswyn was about to withdraw after having rendered her this service, but she tapped him reproachfully on the shoulder and begged him to stay a moment with his old aunt. He might have resisted her request; but when Countess Lenzdorff added that he would please her by remaining, he complied, and seated himself again, although with something of the awkwardness apt to be shown by an officer when in civilian's dress.
The 'wicked fairy' established herself beside the Countess Anna upon the sofa behind the round table, and accepted from Erika's hand a cup of tea, which she drank in affected little sips. She was clad, as usual, in trailing mourning robes, although no one could have told for whom she wore them, and the Countess Anna's first question was, "Do you not dislike wandering about Bayreuth as the Queen of Night?"
"On the contrary," replied the 'wicked fairy,' rubbing her hands, "I like it. Awhile ago one of my friends declared that I appeared in Bayreuth as the mourning ghost of classic music. Was it not charming?--but not at all appropriate, for I adore Wagner!" And she began to hum the air of the flower-girl scene, "trililili lilili----"
"What do you think of 'Parsifal'?" Countess Anna asked, turning to Goswyn. "One of the greatest humbugs of the century, eh? They howl as if possessed by an evil spirit, and call it joy,--call it song!"
"At the risk of falling greatly in your esteem, I must confess that 'Parsifal' made a profound impression upon me, Countess," Goswyn replied.
"Et tu, Brute!" his old friend exclaimed.
"I do not entirely approve of it, if that is anything in my favour," he rejoined.
"Ah, there is nothing like Wagner! there is but one God,--and one Wagner!" The 'wicked fairy' went on humming, closing her eyes, and waving her hands affectedly in the air.
"The scene containing the air which you are humming is not one of my favourites," Goswyn remarked.