ask your indulgence for the keen
disappointment, and beg to say that your money will be refunded at the
box-office."

Diotti had disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed
him.

V

My dearest sister: You doubtless were exceedingly mystified and
troubled over the report that was flashed to Europe regarding my
sudden disappearance on the eve of my second concert in New York.

Fearing, sweet Francesca, that you might mourn me as dead, I sent the
cablegram you received some weeks since, telling you to be of good
heart and await my letter. To make my action thoroughly understood I
must give you a record of what happened to me from the first day I
arrived in America. I found a great interest manifested in my
premiere, and socially everything was done to make me happy.

Mrs. James Llewellyn, whom, you no doubt remember, we met in Florence
the winter of 18--, immediately after I reached New York arranged a
reception for me, which was elegant in the extreme. But from that
night dates my misery.

You ask her name?--Mildred Wallace. Tell me what she is like, I hear
you say. Of graceful height, willowy and exquisitely molded, not over
twenty-four, with the face of a Madonna; wondrous eyes of darkest
blue, hair indescribable in its maze of tawny color--in a word, the
perfection of womanhood. In half an hour I was her abject slave, and
proud in my serfdom. When I returned to the hotel that evening I could
not sleep. Her image ever was before me, elusive and shadowy. And yet
we seemed to grow farther and farther apart--she nearer heaven, I
nearer earth.

The next evening I gave my first and what I fear may prove my last
concert in America. The vision of my dreams was there, radiant in
rarest beauty. Singularly enough, she was in the direct line of my
vision while I played. I saw only her, played but for her, and cast my
soul at her feet. She sat indifferent and silent. "Cold?" you say. No!
No! Francesca, not cold; superior to my poor efforts. I realized my
limitations. I questioned my genius. When I returned to bow my
acknowledgments for the most generous applause I have ever received,
there was no sign on her part that I had interested her, either
through my talent or by appeal to her curiosity. I hoped against hope
that some word might come from her, but I was doomed to
disappointment. The critics were fulsome in their praise and the
public was lavish with its plaudits, but I was abjectly miserabl