A feeling of longing unutterable came over her--longing to recall him--a feeling that rose to ever fuller power until her whole being vibrated with the desire. She tightened her grasp of the instrument to steady her convulsive trembling. Glenn stopped. A new thrill was creeping through the music. Her eyes evinced a conquering fire born of internal despair. She was playing now as if inspired by some power above and beyond all things of earth. Through it all ran the shrill, sweet strains of her long-pent soul. Glenn stood immovable, with his eyes fixed upon her. The sublime passion throbbing through the music was a sound that a human soul could not resist, as if the player’s whole nature were speaking to him. It pleaded, commanded, until it smote each tense chord of his life--compelled completest harmony. He followed with eager looks every gesture of her bow. His lips broke into a proud smile, revealing all he felt. It ended in an echo, transcendent, sovereign, supreme. The violin fell at her feet. The very air was saturated with the incense of applause. He awakened as though from a dream to share in it. He grew almost hysterical as the audience begged for an encore. The curtain rose. Esther, flushed with her success, almost gasped as she reappeared. There was a rain of flowers, falling from everywhere. Glenn felt his heart beat after her in an ecstasy of longing. The curtain rose again and again. He had never known the height or depth of their natures before. He adored her--Esther, whose growth in beauty, power, glory he had watched with boyish tenderness. All that he had admired, and had not dared to hope for, were united in her. From the depths of his being there came to him the first over-mastering passion of his life--in a love that he had forbidden himself. THE WOMAN. CHAPTER I. Glenn sent his congratulations with a lot of flowers. He did not trust himself to call. That was not indifference, but too much feeling. The following week he sent her a few lines: “My dear Esther; “It will be impossible for me to take you to the musicale, but I have arranged to have Mr. Kent call for you, and I feel sure that you will be in good hands.” This note of mild regret made her a little cross, as it was the first time he had ever consented to have her go out alone with another man. There seemed nothing else to do but submit, wash a tear of vexation from her face, and be ready to go when Mr. Kent called. From Glenn Andrews’ point of view this privilege was an endorsement of the man he had selected. She was his treasure and he could never entrust it to any man in whom he had not the staunchest faith. Later he learned through Stephen Kent that they had gone together and the affair had been as pleasant as usual. That was satisfactory. He would have them go again together.