"Ah, now you're wrong, Helga! I have got something out of it already--I've got Thora!"
"Thora?"
"Didn't you know? Thora was the prize I was bidding for when I took over that contract."
"So that was it--was it?" said Helga; and then Thora herself, feeling sick and ill, gathered up her work and stole out of the room.
Nevertheless the seed which Helga had sown had not fallen on stony ground. Within twenty-four hours Oscar appeared with a new composition in his hands.
"An idea came to me last night and I had to get it off," he said, and then he sat down to the piano and played.
"Beautiful!" cried Helga. "Really beautiful! But this subject suggests the organ--why not set it to that, and try it on the organ in the cathedral?"
"Splendid idea!" said Oscar. "Thora knows the curator and can get the key. What do you say, Thora?"
"If you would like to," said Thora, and next day they carried out their scheme.
Oscar and Helga sat together in the organ loft, while Thora was sent down the communion steps to report the effect at a distance. "How did that go, Thora?" cried Oscar, once or twice at the beginning, and Thora answered, "Very nicely, I think," but then the two in the organ loft forgot her altogether in the rapture of their rehearsal.