class="sc2">Frau Heinecke helps Alma off with her jacket.)

Heinecke. Now what do you say? (Stroking her cheek) Are you my little treasure or not, eh?

Alma. (Trilling) "Oui, cher papa! c'est Girofla!"

Heinecke. Do you hear how she sings? Real Italian!

Robert. Now what's this I hear: you want to be a great singer?

Alma. Well, I'd not object to that!

Frau Heinecke. Won't you cat a little piece of pound-cake, Alma?

Alma. Merci beaucoup! (Goes about in front of the mirror, eating)

Robert. And you are studying hard?

Alma. (Her mouth full of cake) I have lessons every afternoon--Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si--si, la, sol,--fa--Oh, those scales! Terrible bore! And practice--Eternal practice!--My nerves are ruined already!

Frau Heinecke. Poor child!

Alma. "Oh, yes. Ma!"[5] I've been studying English, too! I'm awfully cultured.--Oh, what I've learned!

Heinecke. Yes sir! D'ye see!

Alma. And above all--we only live once--have a good time, that's the main thing! Are you happy, too, brother?

Robert. Certainly, when I have reason to be.

Alma. The great art is to be happy without any reason. Why are we young? Oh, it's good to live! Every day something new!--And Berlin is so lovely! You know--the Linden!--and the electric light! Have you seen it yet? That's what I like the best of all. Everybody is so pretty and pale, so interesting!--And the restaurants have all got electric lights now, too. Grand!--I saw a chandelier in a cafe in the Donhoffplatz--it was a great big wreath of flowers and every flower had a light in it!

Robert. Were you in the cafe?

Alma. I? How could I be? Through the window it was! You don't have things like that in India? Do you?

Robert. No, we certainty don't.

Alma. We're pretty far advanced in culture here. Somebody told me that Berlin was almost as beautiful as Paris. Is that so?

Robert. I don't know Paris, dear.

Alma. Ugh! That's a shame! Every young man ought to know Paris.

Robert. (Charmed, yet shocked by her vulgarity) You little silly!

Alma. Ha I ha! ha! I'm a funny one! don't you think? Ha! ha! Yes, that's the way! (She goes about laughing, and rocks back and forth. She takes a little handkerchief, which she carries folded in triangular form in her belt; and holds it under Auguste's nose) Smell it?

Auguste. (Aside) Fine! What's that?

Alma. (Aside) Ixora, the very latest from Paris--got it to-day!

Auguste. Coming out to-night?

Alma. Don't know! He'll send me word--But to-morrow evening we're going to the masked ball! Ha! ha!

Robert. Now let's be sensible again, little one. Come here--Sit down--Here! Here!

Alma. Heavens! How you act! This is going to be a regular cross-examination!

Robert. I'm going to ask you a lot of questions.

(Frau and Herr Heinecke group themselves about Alma's chair. Michalski sits on the work table, Auguste beside him on the stool.)

Alma. Go ahead! S'il vous plait. Monsieur!

Michalski. (Aside to Auguste) This will be a nice mess!

Robert. How did you happen to discover this talent?

Alma. It comes like love--can't tell how!

Robert. (Unpleasantly affected) Hum--But someone must have told you about it!

(Alma shrugs her shoulders.)

Frau Heinecke. Don't you remember, child? It was Herr Kurt that----

Robert. The young manager?

Heinecke. Certainly.

Robert. But how did he know----?

Frau Heinecke. He heard her singing--through the window on the court. And the next thing, he said it was a sin and a shame that a voice like hers----

Robert. But why do you let Mother tell everything, Alma?

Auguste. (To Michalski) She's so modest.

Alma. That a voice like mine should be wasted here in the alley--and that I should not be wasted here in the alley, for that matter! It's really an imposition on you, Gnadiges Fraulein, he said!

Frau Heinecke. I heard that myself: "Gnadiges Fraulein!"

Heinecke. My daughter, yes sir!

Robert. Go ahead. Alma!

Alma. My parents took care of your brother, he said,--I'll take care of you!--Well, and then he found a teacher for me who held a cercle musical--that means a musical circle--made up of young ladies of the best families.--One is engaged to a lieutenant of the Hussars.

Robert. And what is the teacher's name?

Alma. (Suspiciously) What do you want to know for?

Robert. Because it can't be any secret!

Alma. Her name is Signora Paulucci.

Heinecke. (Enthusiastically) Real Italian!

Robert. (Taking out his note-book) And her address?

Alma. (Quickly) You don't need to go there. It's true!

Robert. Of course it's true. But I'd like to hear the teacher's own opinion about your voice. (Alma looks quickly toward Auguste)

Auguste. You can go to her lesson with her tomorrow.

Alma. Yes, to-morrow!

Robert. Good! (Gets up and walks back and forth excitedly) I don't want to make you feel badly, dear, but I must admit I don't share your great