"I do not take many
pupils."
Diana's heart sank yet a little lower, and she felt almost tempted to
seek refuge in immediate flight rather than remain to face the inevitable
dismissal that she guessed would be her portion.
Baroni, however, put a summary stop to any such wild notions by turning
on her with the lightning-like change of mood which she came afterwards
to know as characteristic of him.
"You haf brought some songs?" He held out his hand. "Good. Let me see
them."
He glanced swiftly through the roll of music which she tendered.
"This one--we will try this. Now"--seating himself at the piano--"open
your mouth, little nightingale, and sing."
Softly he played the opening bars of the prelude to the song, and Diana
watched fascinatedly while he made the notes speak, and sing, and melt
into each other with his short stumpy fingers that looked as though they
and music would have little enough in common.
"Now then. Bee-gin."
And Diana began. But she was so nervous that she felt as though her
throat had suddenly closed up, and only a faint, quavering note issued
from her lips, breaking off abruptly in a hoarse croak.
Baroni stopped playing.
"Tchut! she is frightened," he said, and laid an encouraging hand on her
shoulder. "But do not be frightened, my dear. You haf a pree-ty face;
if your voice is as pree-ty as your face you need not haf fear.
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