Happily unvexed by my ignorance, I heard a perfect "Parsifal" without knowing that, from an American point of view, I ought not to have been so delighted. The orchestra was conducted by Siegfried Wagner, and Madame Wagner sat in full view from even our eyrie.

And then--the opera! Perfection in every detail! I believed then that not even the Pa.s.sion Play could hold my spirit, so in leash with its symbolism, its deep devotion, and its enthralling charms.

The day on which I saw "Parsifal" at Bayreuth was a day to be marked with a white stone.

CHAPTER V

THE Pa.s.sION PLAY

Jimmie came into the sitting-room this morning (for, by travelling with the Jimmies, Bee and I can be very grand, and share the luxury of a third room with them), but I suspected him from the moment I saw his face. It was too innocent to be natural.

"What you got, Jimmie?" I said. Jimmie's manner of life invites abbreviated conversation.

"Only the letter from the Burgomeister of Oberammergau, a.s.signing our lodgings," he replied, carelessly. He yawned and put the letter in his pocket.

"Oh, Jimmie!" we all cried out. "Have they--"

"Have they what?" asked Jimmie, opening his eyes.

"Don't be an idiot," I said, savagely. "You know I have hardly been able to sleep, wondering if we'd have to go to ordinary lodgings or if they would a.s.sign us to some of the leading actors in the play. Tell us! Let me see the letter!"

"Now wait a minute," said Jimmie, and then I knew that he was going to be exasperating.

"Don't you let him fool you," said Bee, who always doubts everybody's good intentions and discounts their bad ones, which worthy plan of life permits her to count up at the end of the year only half as many mental bruises as I, let me pause to remark. "You know that not one in ten thousand has influence enough to obtain lodgings with the chief actors, and who are _we_, I should like to know, except in our own estimation?"

"Well," said Jimmie, meekly, "in the estimation of the Burgomeister of Oberammergau, my wife is an American princess, travelling incognito as plain Mrs. Jimmie, to avoid being mobbed by entertainers. He promises in solemn German, which I had Franz translate, not to betray her disguise."

"That makes a prince of _you_, Jimmie," I said, sternly. "A pretty looking prince _you_ are."

"Not at all," said Jimmie modestly. "I felt that I could not do the princely act very long either as to looks or fees, so I said that the princess had made a morganatic marriage, and that I was it."

"Jimmie!" said his wife, blushing scarlet. "How _could_ you? Why, a morganatic marriage isn't respectable. It's left-handed."

"My love! You are thinking of a broomstick marriage. Trust me. We are still legally married, and if I should try to sneak out of my obligations to you by this performance, I should still be liable in the eyes of the law for your debts. Let that console you."

"But--" said Mrs. Jimmie, still blushing, "by this plan they won't let us be together, will they?"

"They wouldn't anyway, as I discovered from their first letter. We are all to be lodged separately, and from the tone of that first letter, in which they addressed me as their prince, I hit on the morganatic marriage as more economical in letting him down easy, without telling him I had lied or having to pay for my lie," said Jimmie, with timid appeal in his innocent blue eyes.

"But where do I come in, Jimmie?" I said, impatiently.

"You come in with Judas Iscariot. Where you belong!" said Jimmie, severely.

Bee howled. Mrs. Jimmie looked startled.

"Nonsense!" I said, indignantly. "That is going a little too far. I won't be put there. I believe you asked 'em on purpose, just so that you could crow over me afterward."

"You are getting slightly mixed," said Jimmie, politely. "If you mention crowing, 'tis Peter you ought to have been lodged with."

"What a fool you are, Jimmie!"

Jimmie gave an ecstatic bounce. Whenever he has completely exasperated anybody he simply beams with joy.

"Where have they put me, Jimmie?" asked Bee.

"They have thoughtfully a.s.signed you to Thomas,--last name not mentioned,--where you can sit down and hold regular doubting conventions with each other and both have the time of your lives."

"I don't believe you!"

"Look and see, O doubtful--doubting one, I mean!"

"My word! He is telling the truth!" cried Bee in astonishment.

"I tried to get--" began Jimmie to his wife, but she stopped him.

"Don't, dear," she said, gently. "You know I love your jokes, but don't be sacrilegious. Leave His name out of this nonsense. I--I couldn't quite bear that."

Jimmie got up and kissed her.

"They have lodged you with the Virgin Mary, sweetheart, and the two most lovely Marys in the world will be in the same house together," he said.

Mrs. Jimmie blushed and smoothed Jimmie's riotous hair tenderly.

"And have they separated you and me, dear? Where have they lodged you?"

"I have secured an apartment with Mary Magdalene--in her house, I mean!"

said Jimmie, straightening up.

Bee and I shrieked. Jimmie edged toward the door.

"Jimmie!" said his wife in horror. "_Please_ don't--"

"Don't what?"

His wife rose from her chair and turned away.

"Don't what?" he repeated.

"I was only going to say," said Mrs. Jimmie, "don't make a joke of every--"

"Well, if you don't want me to go there, I'll trade places with the scribe and put _her_ with the lady who is generally represented reclining on the ground in a blue dress improving her mind by reading.

Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if I lodged with Judas?"

"No, indeed! and put _her_ with Mary Magdalene?" said Mrs. Jimmie, whose serious turn of mind was as a well-spring in a thirsty land to Jimmie.