Herr von Rhodewyl by the bandmaster Vincenz Klaudi, who frequently joined so loudly in the operas he conducted that one could not hear the singers; the bandmaster by Count von Alban-Rattony, a man who had gambled away his Hungarian estate at cards and later won back a castle in lower Austria; the Count by Herr Edgar Wilhelm, author of ballet-texts, which he paid handsome prices to have set to music, of tragedies for which he hired the Jantschtheater to produce, and of poems which he had printed in the most beautiful type, in the stupidest, most select paper of the capital; Herr Edgar Wilhelm was followed by a gentleman named Amandus Meier, who was nothing except nineteen years old and very pretty, and who had nothing but a fox-terrier that could stand on its head; and after Herr Meier came the most elegant man of the monarchy, Prince Richard Bedenbruck.
Kläre had never treated her affairs as a secret. At all times she kept a simple bourgeois house, except that every once in a while there was a change of masters. She was unusually favoured by the public. Higher circles were pleased that she went to mass every Sunday, confessed twice a month, wore on her bosom as an amulet a picture of the Madonna blessed by the Pope, and never went to bed without saying her prayers. There was seldom a charity bazaar in which she was not one of the saleswomen; and ladies of the aristocracy as well as those of the Jewish financial circles were delighted if they could offer their wares in the same booth with Kläre. She always had a winning smile for those youthful enthusiasts who hovered about the stage door. The flowers which were lavished upon her she distributed among this patient throng; and once when the flowers had been left behind in her dressing-room she said in the snappy Viennese which suited her so well, "My soul if I haven't left the salad up there in my room. Come around to-morrow afternoon, kids, if you want to come in on it." Then she got into her cab, stuck her head out of the window, and shouted, "There's a coffee in it, too."
Fanny Ringeiser had belonged to the few who found the courage to accept this invitation. Kläre dropped into a light conversation with her, asked as affably as an arch-duchess about her family relations, and was so taken in by the chatter of this fresh and vigorous girl that she pressed her to come back again soon. Fanny accepted
