The Duke came forward, and hearing the conversation joined in with a request that was almost like pleading. Styvens held out his angular fist to the young girl; the Duke extended a long white hand; and so both led her to the piano. The Duke's fingers pressed her palm lightly but with a suggestion of encouragement, while the Count's held her like a vice that would never open. In spite of her protestations, Esperance was installed at the piano, and Esperance resolved to put all her best into her playing with the hope of being able to transport her audience into the highest realms of the art that can express great aspiration blended with the pathos of suffering. Charles de Morlay-La-Branche withdrew to the rear of the long room, and stood alone, leaning against a beautiful Italian window, to listen and to watch. A conflict of feelings were struggling within him. He was fighting against the attraction of this slender creature, whose white shoulders and delicate body were swaying with a phrase now violent, now subdued, her whole person actuated, controlled by the rhythm of the music. The heavy frame work of Count Styvens seemed an anchor for the fragile idol. The Duke gnawed his lip in suppressed emotional anger. As the young couple left their seats the room shook with applause. Everybody was delighted. The Princess took Esperance by both hands, gazing at her, stroking the tapering fingers that were still vibrating with the fever of the music. Esperance was so pale that the Princess led her into another room and made her sit down, praising her marvellous execution and striving to quiet the little heart she could feel beating with so much agitation. "The Doctor who attends me," Esperance explained in a far-away voice, "has told me, Madame, that I must avoid all excitement if I wish to live a long time, but that I shall not live naturally if I am over excited or depressed by emotion." They brought her a refreshing and soothing drink. The Princess's attendant bathed her temples with Eau de Cologne. Esperance breathed more quietly and rose, thanking the Princess; then suddenly collapsed on her knees, sobbing, without strength, without consciousness, and Madame Darbois was summoned to her side at once. "Oh! great Heaven!" she said. "I have never seen her like this before; usually she controls herself when over-excited by music. See, dear, a little strength, stand up, and we will go home at once...." But Esperance's head slipped from the mother's support into her arms, while her whole body was shaken by sobs. The Countess Styvens came in to find the girl exhausted by a storm of moans and sobs. They succeeded in placing her on a large soft couch and she fell asleep holding the Countess's hand, under the impression that it was her mother's.