The scene was dimly lighted by a lamp attached to the adjacent wall, and had on this account, quite apart from the sight of Herr Carovius with the paper crown and the toper’s mask, something fantastic about it. Daniel did not know that the girl was Dorothea Döderlein, though he half suspected as much. But whoever she was, he was impressed by her jollity, her actual lust for laughter, her complete lack of restraint. He had never known that sort of mirthful hilarity; and if he had known it, he could not recall it. Her youthful features, her bright eyes, her white teeth, her agile gestures filled him with deferential respect; his eyes swam with emotion. He felt so old, so foreign; he felt that where he was the sun was not shining, the flowers were not budding. He felt that life had appeared to him all of a sudden and quite unexpectedly in a new, kindly, bewitching light. He came slowly down the steps. “Is it possible!” cried Herr Carovius, tearing the mask from his face. “Can I trust my own eyes? It is our _maestro_! Or is it his ghost?” “It is both he and his ghost,” replied Daniel drily. “This is no place for ghosts,” cried Dorothea, and threw a snow ball, hitting him square on the shoulder. Daniel looked at her; she blushed, and looked at Herr Carovius questioningly. “Don’t you know our Daniel Nothafft, you little ignoramus?” said Herr Carovius. “You know nothing of our coryphæus? Hail to the Master! Welcome home! He is here, covered with fame!” At any other time Herr Carovius’s biliary sarcasm would have aroused Daniel’s whole stock-in-trade of aversion and indignation. To-day he was unimpressed by it. “How young she is,” he thought, as he feasted his eyes on the embarrassed, laughing Dorothea, “how gloriously young!” Dorothea was angry because she did not have on the red dress she had had made in Munich. “Dorothea!” called a strong voice from the first floor. “Oh, there’s father!” whispered Dorothea. She was frightened. She ran up the steps on her tiptoes, dragging her long veil after her. The maid followed her. “A devil, a regular little devil, _Maestro_,” said Herr Carovius turning to Daniel. “You must come in some time and hear how she can draw the bow. She’s a regular little devil, I say.” Daniel bade Herr Carovius adieu, and went walking down the street with bowed head. XII In the province, Dorothea Döderlein, fresh from the Bavarian capital, was a phenomenon that attracted general attention. Her conduct seemed, to be sure, a bit liberal, but then she was an artist, and her name appeared in the newspapers every now and then, so it was only natural to make allowances for her. When she gave her first concert, Adler Hall was almost completely sold out.