On the next day, as she was returning from an idle walk with her friend along the Lindau road, Mr. Redgrave met them.  He was dressed as she had never seen him, in flannels, with a white necktie loosely knotted and a straw hat.  Not till he had come near enough to salute did she recognise him; he looked ten years younger.

They talked as if the meeting were of daily occurrence.  Redgrave addressed himself to Miss Steinfeld as often as to Alma, and showed a graceful command of decorous commonplace.  He had arrived early this morning, had put up at the Oesterreichischer Hof, was already delighted with Brogenz.  Did Miss Steinfeld devote herself to landscape?  Had she done anything here?  Had Miss Frothingham brought her violin?  They strolled pleasantly to the Hafen promenade, and parted at length with assurances of meeting again, as if definite appointment were needless.

‘That is my idea of the English gentleman,’ said Miss Steinfeld afterwards.  ’I think I should have taken him for a lord.  No doubt he is very rich?’

‘Oh, pretty well off,’ Alma replied, with assumed indifference.  ’Ten thousand pounds a year, I dare say.’

‘Ten thousand! Lieber Himmel!  And married?’

‘No.’

‘In Parliament, I suppose?’

‘No.’

‘Then, what does he do?’

‘Oh, amuses himself.’

Each became occupied with her thoughts.  Alma’s were so agreeable, that Miss Steinfeld, observing her, naturally fell into romantic speculation.

Redgrave easily contrived that his next walk should be with Miss Frothingham alone.  He overtook her next morning, soon after she had left the house, and they rambled in the Gebhardsberg direction.

‘Now let us have the promised talk,’ he began at a favourable moment.  ‘I’ve been thinking about you all the time.’

‘Did you go to your place on Lake Garda?’

’Yes; just to look at it, and get it put in order.  I hope to be there again before long.  You didn’t doubt I should come?’

‘You left it uncertain.’

’To be sure.  Life is uncertain.  But I should have been desperately disappointed if I hadn’t found you here.  There are so many things to be said about going in for music as a profession.  You have the talent, you have the physical strength, I think.’  His eye flattered her from head to foot.  ’But, to be a great artist, one must have more than technical qualifications.  It’s the soul that must be developed.’

Alma laughed.

‘I know it.  And what is your receipt for developing the soul?’

Redgrave paused in his walk.  Smiling, he gave a twist to his moustache, and appeared to meditate profoundly.

’The soul —­ well, it has a priggish sound.  Let us say the character; and that is developed through experience of life.’

‘I’m getting it.’

’Are you?  In the company of Miss Steinfeld?  I’m afraid that won’t carry you very far.  Experience means emotion; certainly, for a woman.  Believe me, you haven’t begun to live yet.  You may practise on your violin day and night, and it won’t profit you —­ until you have lived.’