She glanced anxiously at Baroni to see if he had
resented her remark, only to find him surveying her with a radiant smile
and looking exactly like a large, pleased child.
"We shall get on, the one with the other," he observed contentedly.
"Yes, we shall get on. And now--who are you? I do not remember
names"--with a terrific roll of his R's--"but you haf a very pree-ty
face--and I never forget a pree-ty face."
"I'm--I'm Diana Quentin," she blurted out, nervousness once more
overpowering her as she realised that the moment of her ordeal was
approaching. "I've come to have my voice tried."
Baroni picked up a memorandum book from his table, turning over the pages
till he came to her name.
"Ach! I remember now. Miss Waghorne--my old pupil sent you. She has
been teaching you, isn't it so?"
Diana nodded.
"Yes, I've had a few lessons from her, and she hoped that possibly you
would take me as a pupil."
It was out at last--the proposal which now, in the actual presence of the
great man himself, seemed nothing less than a piece of stupendous
presumption.
Signor Baroni's eyes roamed inquiringly over the face and figure of the
girl before him--quite possibly querying as to whether or no she
possessed the requisite physique for a singer. Nevertheless, the great
master was by no means proof against the argument of a pretty face.
There was a story told of him that, on one occasion, a girl with an
exceptionally fine voice had been brought to him, some wealthy patroness
having promised to defray the expenses of her training if Baroni would
accept her as a pupil.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25