Madame. I have promised
to play that little romance for her whenever she wishes to hear it. I
cannot break my promise."

The blood of the Biscayan peasant surged wildly in her veins. "You are
a fool, Signor Corsini; you do not know your real friends, I assure
you."

Corsini assumed his most diplomatic manner. He bowed profoundly. "I
have made many friends in St. Petersburg, Madame, but I shall always
remember that you were one of the first and best."

"Always excepting Princess Nada," remarked the _prima donna_
spitefully.

"Ah, Madame, I met her first in London; I cannot tell you under what
tragic circumstances. Yes, to be quite frank, the Princess has a
little niche in my memory that nobody else can occupy. You will
forgive me?"

Madame Quero turned away from him scornfully, her warm Spanish blood
all aflame at the mention of her rival.

"Go then to your beautiful Princess, with her bloom of the lilies and
roses on her cheeks, and your fate be on your own head."

Corsini, in spite of his equable temperament, was a little disturbed
by the interview. Madame Quero had been very insistent that he should
not go to the Zouroff Palace. What was there behind this insistence?

He had pressed her closely as to her reasons, and she had led him to
understand she entertained an undefined jealousy of the Princess Nada.
In all probability that was the true explanation. Anyway, she would
give him none other.

He was very busy during the next day or two with the cares of
management--the directorship of the Imperial Opera was no light task.
He met the singer several times, but she still appeared to nourish
resentment.

Well, he could not help it. Wild horses would not have kept him
away from the Zouroff Palace, from the few minutes' glimpse of the
beautiful young Princess. The Thursday drew near, and his pulses
beat with pleasurable anticipation. If Madame Quero withdrew her
friendship from him, it would not break his heart; and if she was the
traitress that Golitzine assumed, her friendship was not worth having.

As for the woman herself, she was torn with conflicting emotions. At
one moment she hated him, at another she wept to think that he should
fall a victim to the machinations of the unscrupulous and unrelenting
Prince. And on the Wednesday, the day before the reception at the
Zouroff Palace, her softer feelings conquered.

She had seen the Prince the night before, and he had told her that he
was going into the