ed a swift glance across the bed. Evidently,
Monsieur Peron had, at one time, been a personage of some importance.
Sovereigns did not bestow such gifts upon undistinguished people.

"Take that ring and the Order," commanded the old man in his feeble,
husky voice. "Go and pawn them. If you cannot get enough by pawning,
sell them outright. And buy a dress-suit with the money to-day."

Both Nello and his sister protested. These two objects and the piano
were all that the old man had preserved out of his brilliant past.

Corsini spoke. "Listen, dear Papa! You would not part with these when
we had not enough to eat. I can understand what they represent to you.
Do not worry about me. I will go to Degraux in a couple of days and
explain the situation. Even if he is annoyed, he will have gone too
far to recede."

But Peron was persistent. A flash of his old imperiousness came back
to him.

"Go and do as I tell you. My days are numbered. My one hope is that I
may live to see you successful. Go and dress yourself properly. Let me
hear of your success before I die; that is all I wish."

The strain of the interview had been too much for him. Taken with a
violent fit of coughing, he sank back exhausted on his pillow. Anita
pointed to the door.

"You cannot disobey his wishes. Come back and tell him you have done
what he asked you. It may give him a few days more of life."

The young man, fearing the old man's death, rushed round to the
nearest pawnbroker in Wardour Street. Upon the ring alone he raised
sufficient to hire a dress-suit at a neighbouring costumier's. On his
return he was overjoyed to find that the poor Papa had rallied from
his exhaustion.

On the night of the concert Nello came into the old man's room to bid
him good-night. Peron drew him towards him and kissed him on both
cheeks.

"Courage, my son, courage!" Alas! every day the voice was getting
feebler. "You play at the end that little romance with your own
variations. _Au revoir._ I shall be awake when you return to hear the
news. Anita and I will not have a wink of sleep till you come back."

"_Au revoir, bon_ Papa!" was Nello's parting greeting.

Papa Peron raised himself in his bed, shook his hand at the air and
almost shouted after him: "And if you do not outplay that charlatan,
Bauquel, I will never forgive you."

CHAPTER IV

Nello stood facing the big and fashionable audience. A celebrated
accompanist was already seated at the piano.