This upset the modest violet theory; but, after all, the glorious rose which basks in fullest sunshine is a finer flower; anyway, there was much to admire in the lady; and when at the appointed hour she was handed, by two or three gentlemen in waiting, to the front of the extempore platform in the _salon_, and stood there self-possessed and stately in her trailing black silk robe, while her audience clapped a welcome, I declare my heart went pit-a-pat with excitement, just as though I were a boy of nineteen. The lady waited for silence with downcast eyes, but when the room was hushed into stillness she raised them suddenly with a quick change of expression, and in a rich clear voice began to speak in German. That there were rhymes in what she recited even my ignorant ears could catch, but the extraordinary thing about it was the incessant repetition of my own name in every variety of tone, now playful, now tender, now coaxing, now petulant; and once when her accent was especially caressing, the dark eyes rested for an instant on my face, bringing a tinge of red above my respectable British whiskers. What was it all about? Was it possible that Madame B. was acquainted with my Christian name? that she was conscious of my fervent admiration, and not displeased by it? And here I became aware that Emmie was indulging in a paroxysm of laughter and delight beside me, while a storm of rapturous applause burst out all over the room as the melodious voice ceased and Madame B. bowed her acknowledgments. She came back again and recited something else--of which I could not understand a word--before Emmie had time to explain the first piece, but I hardly listened now; I was sitting in a strangely delicious dream. Adolph? yes, certainly that was the German for my own name Adolphus, but never had I imagined the variety of sweet inflections with which that name could be uttered. "I shall always call you uncle Adolph in future," cried Emmie, breaking in upon my revery. "It is a much prettier name than Adolphus, and ever so much shorter. Oh, dear, I do wish I could say it in half as many different ways as Madame B. can!" "But what was it all about?" "Oh, I beg your pardon, uncle. I forgot you did not understand. It was just the loveliest thing you ever heard. The poem begins by saying not exactly 'what's in a name?' but by suggesting that we hardly know what there _is_ in it until we try to use it under a great variety of circumstances; and then it takes a common German name, Adolph, and puts it into the mouth of a girl who is talking to her lover; and sometimes she pets him, and sometimes she pretends to scold him, or to take offense, and then she is in despair at parting from him, and overjoyed to meet again. You could make out all that for yourself, couldn't you, from the way Madame B. pronounced your name?" "I never heard anything to equal her; it is wonderfully clever."