"No," she admitted slowly. "I couldn't give it up--now."
An odd look of satisfaction overspread Baroni's face.
"Then do not blame me, my child. For haf I not given you a consolation
for the troubles of life."
"I need never have had those troubles to bear if you had been frank
with me!" she flashed back. "_You--you_ were not bound by any oath of
secrecy. Oh! It was cruel of you, _Maestro_!"
Her eyes, bitterly accusing, searched his face.
"Tchut! Tchut! But you are too quick to think evil of your old
_maestro_." He hesitated, then went on slowly: "It is a long story, my
dear--and sometimes a very sad story. I did not think it would pass my
lips again in this world. But for you, who are so dear to me, I will
break the silence of years. . . . Listen, then. When you, my little
Pepperpot, had not yet come to earth to torment your parents, but were
still just a tiny thought in the corner of God's mind, I--your old
Baroni--I was in Ruvania."
"You--in Ruvania?"
He nodded.
"Yes. I went there first as a professor of singing at the Borovnitz
Conservatoire--_per Bacco_! But they haf the very soul of music, those
Ruvanians! And I was appointed to attend also at the palace to give
lessons to the Grand Duchess. Her voice was only a little less
beautiful than your own." He hesitated, as though he found it
difficult to continue. At last he said almost shyly: "Thou, my child,
thou hast known love.
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