"It is better here，"said Grandmother."Here youhave a whole mansion.I do not begrudge you and that no-ble man，the singing master，this home of peace."
"Then I do not begrudge you this，Grandmother，andyou，my dear blessed mother!You two shall always livehere，and not，as in town，walk up so many steps and bein such narrow and small quarters.You shall have a ser-vant to help you and shall see me as often as in town.Areyou happy about it?Are you content with it?"
"What is all this the boy stands here and says!"saidMother.
"The house，the garden—it's all yours，Mother，andyours，Grandmother!To be able to give you this is what Ihave striven for.My friend the singing master has faithfullyhelped me with getting it ready."
"What is all this you are saying，child!"exclaimedthe mother."You want to give us a gentleman's mansion!You sweet boy!Yes，you would do it if you could!"
"I am serious，"he said."The house is yours andGrandmother's."He kissed them both，and they burst intotears.Madam Hof shed just as many.It is the happiestmoment of my life!exclaimed Peer，as he embraced allthree of them.
And now they had to see everything all over again，since it was their own.They now had that beautiful littleglasshouse in which to put their five or six pot plants fromthe garret roof.Instead of a little cupboard，they had herea great roomy pantry，and the kitchen was a complete，warm little chamber.The chimney bad an oven and cook-ing stove;it looked like a great，shining flatiron，saidMother.
"Now you have a fireside corner just like I have!"said Madam Hof."This is magnificent!You have attainedall that people can attain on this earth，and you，too，myown，popular friend!"
"Not all!"said Peer.
"The little wife will come along!"said Modam Hof."I have her already for you!I feel sure I know who sheis!But I shall keep my mouth shut.You wonderful man!Isn't all this like a ballet!"She laughed with tears in hereyes，and so did Mother and Grandmother.
ⅩⅧ
To write the text and music for an opera，and be theinterpreter of his own work on the stage，was a great andhappy aim.Our young friend had a talent in common withWagner，in that he could construct the dramatic poemhimself;but did he，like Wagner，have the fullness ofmusical emotion to create a musical work of any signifi-cance?
Courage and doubt alternated in him.He could notdismiss this persistent thought of his.For years and daysit had shone in his mind as a picture of fancy;now it wasa possibility，his life's goal.Many free fancies were wel-comed at the piano as birds of passage from that Land ofPerhaps.The little ballads and the characteristic springsong gave promise of the still undiscovered land of tone.The widow baroness saw in them the sign of promise，asColumbus saw it in the fresh green weed that the currentsof the sea bore toward him before he saw the land itself onthe horizon.
Land was there!The child of fortune should reachit.A word thrown out was the seed of thought.She，theyoung，pretty，innocent girl，had spoken the word—Aladdin.Our young friend was a child of fortune likeAladdin;it shone within him.
With understanding and delight he read and rereadthe beautiful Oriental story.Soon it took dramatic form;scene after scene grew into words and music，and themore it grew，the richer the music thoughts became.Atthe close of the work was as if the well of tone werenow for the first time pierced，and all the abundant freshwater streamed forth.He then recomposed his work，andin stronger form，after months，arose the opera Alddin.
No one knew of this work;no one had heard asmuch as a single bar of it，not even the most sympatheticof all his friends，the singing master.No one at the the-ater，when in the evening the young singer entranced hispubic with his voice and his masterful acting，had anyidea that the young man who seemed so to live andbreathe in his role lived more intensely—yes，and forhours afterward lost himself in a mighty work of music thatpoured from his own soul.