left her early, in
order to impress upon Arlt that he must accept his bidding to the supper
which the Lorimers were to give after the concert. The invitations had
been noncommittal, and Arlt had announced his intention of declining his
own, on the plea of being too tired with his overture to care to do
anything more, that night. Miss Gannion had told Thayer what he already
half suspected, that Beatrix was really giving this supper in Arlt's
honor and that it was to be the first large affair of the season, in the
hope of focussing public attention upon the boy at the very moment of
his having proved his real genius as composer. Thayer appreciated to the
full the gracious kindliness of the plan, and he had excused himself to
Miss Gannion and hurried away in search of Arlt, devoutly praying, as he
went, that the note of regret might not be already on its way.

He was but just in time. The sealed note lay on the table, and Arlt was
shrugging himself into his overcoat, when Thayer entered the room. Ten
minutes later, they were still arguing the matter, when they heard an
unfamiliar step coming up the stairs.

"Mr. Arlt?" A strange voice followed the knock.

Arlt opened the door hospitably. The dim light in the hallway showed him
a figure known to every opera singer in America and half of Europe.

"Will you come in?" he asked, in some surprise.

"Is Mr. Thayer here?"

"I am." Thayer stepped into the lighted doorway. "You wished me?"

"Yes. What is more, I need you. We know each other well by sight, so I
suppose there is no call for us to waste time on introductions. Mr.
Thayer, Principali, one of my best baritones, is ill and is forced to
cancel his engagements. Will you take his place?"

Thayer meditated swiftly, during a moment of silence.

"What are the operas?"

"Wagner, _Faust_ of course, and--oh, the usual run of extras."

"What reason have you to think that I am fitted for your vacancy?"
Thayer asked directly.

The impresario smiled.

"Your old master in Berlin is one of my most intimate friends. He gave
you a letter of introduction to me, I think?" The accent was
interrogative, although it was plain that only one answer was expected.

"He did," Thayer assented quietly.

"Yes, and I have been waiting for more than a year in the hope that you
would present it. Since you will not come to me, I am at last driven to
go in search of you."

Thayer bowed gravely in recognition of the implied compliment. He