perfectly lovely innocence in all matters concerning her daughter . . . and he took new hope. But unfortunately the Dutchman had the unpleasant habit of announcing in every letter that he would arrive the next day, assuring his mistress that she was surrounded by an army of spies, and incidentally threatening her with the most painful forms of death in the event of her being unfaithful to him. But as he never did come, and Kläre began falling gradually into a state of extreme nervousness, Leisenbohg resolved to end the matter at all costs, and left Detmold to carry on his transactions in person. To his astonishment the Dutchman declared that he had sent these threatening love-letters to her purely out of gallantry, and that as a matter of fact nothing would be more agreeable to him than to be freed of all further responsibility. Elated, Leisenbohg came back to Dresden and told Kläre of the pleasant outcome of the interview. She thanked him cordially, but the first thrust at further tenderness was parried with an abruptness which took the Baron by surprise. After a few brief and searching questions she finally confessed to him that during his absence no less than Prince Kajetan himself had conceived a violent passion for her and had sworn to do himself some harm if he was not heard. It was only natural that she had ultimately been forced to give in, so as to avoid throwing the reigning house and the country at large into unspeakable misery.
With a reasonably broken heart Leisenbohg left the city and returned to Vienna. Here he began using his influence, and his continuous efforts were responsible to no small degree for the offer which Kläre received to sing in opera in Vienna the next year. After a very successful appearance as guest star she began her engagement in October, and the splendid flowers from the Baron she found in her dressing-room on the evening of her first appearance, seemed to express both supplication and hope. But the kind protector who waited for her in agitation following the performance was to learn that once more he had come too late. The blond rehearsal director—who was also of no small importance as a song writer—with whom she had been studying these last weeks had been granted privileges by her which she could not have infringed upon for anything in the world.
Since then seven years had passed. The director was followed by Herr Klemens von Rhodewyl, the dashing gentleman rider;
