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sad, appealing music which of itself would translate Goethe’s words to any sympathetic listener:

Mrs. Austin did not know a word of German, but she understood the music—oh, how clearly! She knew too well the meaning of those sad, hopeless notes, “Mein Herz ist schwer.” Heavy-hearted she was indeed, but she made a brave fight with herself. It seemed to her as if the dry winter branches of her life had all too late burst into blossom; nevertheless, she must with her own hand destroy the flowers, and spoil all the love and poetry late come into her heart. But she never faltered in her resolution, now that her eyes were opened. All the uprightness and honesty of her nature—the inherited instinct of unstained forefathers—rose in her soul, and bade her take arms and fight her battle, even in this bright music-stirred scene of gaiety and outward happiness. Carrie had said that the only thing she could do for him was to give him up. These words rang in her ears, and she clenched her hand on the balcony with a sudden pang as she listened in her inmost heart to this