THE FATE OF THE BARON VON LEISENBOHG
Translated from the German by Kenneth Burke
IT was a warm evening in May when Kläre Heil reappeared for the first time as Queen of the Night. The circumstance which had kept the singer away from the opera for almost two months was a matter of common knowledge. Prince Richard Bedenbruck had been injured in a fall from his horse on the fifteenth of March, and after an illness of a few hours—during which time Kläre had never left his side—had died in her arms. Kläre's anguish had been so intense that at first they feared for her life, later for her mind, and until recently, for her voice. This last fear proved to be quite as unfounded as the other two. As she came before the public she received a friendly and expectant greeting; but after the first great aria her more intimate friends could accept the felicitations of her more distant acquaintances. In the fourth gallery the childish red face of little Fräulein Fanny Ringeiser beamed with happiness, and the habitués of the upper rows smiled to their comrade sympathetically. They all knew that Fanny, although she was nothing more than the daughter of a Mariahilf haberdasher, belonged to the popular prima donna's closer circle, that she had frequently been invited to her house for tea, and had secretly been in love with the dead Prince. Between acts Fanny explained to her friends that Kläre had got the idea from the Baron von Leisenbohg of selecting the Queen of the Night for her first appearance, feeling that the dark costume would correspond most closely to her mood.
As to the Baron, he took his orchestra seat—first row centre, on the aisle as usual—and acknowledged the greetings of his acquaintances with an amiable but almost painful smile. To-day various memories were running through his head. He had met Kläre about eight years ago. At that time he was providing for the artistic education of a slender young lady with red hair and was attending an evening performance at the Eisenstein Singing School where his
