and a sweet smile was on her lip as she held out her hand to Franz.
Together they walked down the marble hall and up the broad staircase,
on through rows of stately ladies and martial-looking men, the crowd
opening and bowing as they passed.

At length they came to a room larger, more magnificent than the rest.
Persian carpets covered the floor, and the windows were draped with
blue and gold. On a dais at the extremity of the room was an oaken
chair of quaint device, in which sat a proud-looking man, pale and
careworn as though weary of so much state and ceremony.

"My child," said the prince, "Do you feel like playing for me? I am
too weak to go to the cathedral, and I fancy if I can hear you play I
shall feel better."

Franz was a timid boy, but he loved to please. He was always ready to
play for his father. He glanced at the lady, there was a sweet smile
resting on her face. Dropping on his knee Franz kissed the hand of the
prince. "I will do my best, since you are so good as to ask me."

Franz looked up, and saw what he had not seen before, an organ quite
like the one his father so loved.

"Play just as you do in the old cathedral," whispered the lady, and
then she seated herself in a chair by the side of the prince. Franz
saw nothing but the keys, he heard nothing but the sweet soul harmony,
and this he must interpret to the beautiful lady and the sick prince
by means of his instrument. How long he played he never knew, but when
he ceased a slight hand lay on his shoulder, and a sweet face bent
above him.