they do not know much about Wagner, or so I was told."
As she spoke her gay expression disappeared, and I fancied that I was able to trace the thought which was passing through her mind, and casting a shadow over her face.
This secret thought, which she of course could not guess that I had fathomed, gave me a feeling of depression, and I became as silent as she was.
Suddenly I noticed that she was looking at me with an astonished glance which clearly said: "Why has he also nothing to talk about, and why does he look so sulky and disagreeable?" And at the same time I felt that my lips showed annoyance or mockery. It was indeed that telltale look of hers that made me conscious of my own mood; and this mood greatly surprised me, for I could not disguise from myself that it was caused by jealousy. And could anything be more foolish, than to be jealous for the sake of a girl with whom I had hardly spoken, and should very likely never become well acquainted?
During these meditations I had begun to be talkative. I told her I had been long enough in Dresden to gain some knowledge of the works of Wagner, and that they had a special interest for a Dane, as, in the Niebelungen-Ring he had used a subject from our own sagas.
Then I passed on to Danish literature, and hastened to ask if she had been getting on well enough with the language to read any of our authors.
"Yes, I have read Aladdin, by Oehlenschläger," she answered. "I spelt my way through it when I only knew a few words and a little grammar."
"Then, I suppose, you did not enjoy it much?"
"Indeed I did; I read it over several times, especially
