elapsed since the funeral of the good old Papa, and the
note addressed to the Baron Salmoros was still in Corsini's keeping.
He knew from a postscript in Peron's letter that no date except that
of the year had been affixed to it, for obvious reasons.

The young man was considering his position. There was no doubt that
the Baron had been asked to find him a post that would give a more
assured future, remove him from the difficulties, the uncertainties of
an artistic career. He was not yet quite sure in his own mind that he
wanted to avail himself of this opportunity, if Salmoros offered it to
him.

His month's experience had been very satisfactory. An enterprising
gentleman, keenly on the alert for new clients, had introduced himself
to him and established himself as his agent, unfolding a rosy future
if he trusted himself to his skilled guidance. Nello had agreed. This
plausible person, obviously of the Hebraic persuasion, knew the ropes,
Nello did not. Besides, he had come with a recommendation from
Degraux, who had spoken highly of his abilities in exploiting young
artists, who had set their first step on the ladder of fame.

Yes, the month had been very satisfactory, if it had not reaped quite
such a golden harvest as Nello and his sister had anticipated. The
agent booked him for private concerts as hard as he could, but there
was a great variance in the fees. Some were considerable, some very
moderate. Mr. Mosenstein--such was the agent's name--made light of the
discrepancy. These were the anomalies incidental to the profession.

"The great thing is to get known, my dear boy, to be seen everywhere,
in South Kensington as well as Belgravia," the plausible agent had
explained. "If South Kensington pays you less than Belgravia and
Mayfair, never mind. Better take a small fee than stop at home,
earning nothing."

All of which went to prove to the shrewd young man that, if he had set
his feet upon the first steps of the ladder, he had not, so far,
mounted very high up. If the great Bauquel, who had now made it up
with Degraux, condescended to play in South Kensington at all, he
would demand a higher fee than he obtained in Mayfair, penalising the
less fashionable quarter for the honour of his services.

Brother and sister, for Anita was no less shrewd than her brother, and
had a fund of common sense, argued the matter out many times, now
inclining one way, now another.

The present was distinctly satisfactory: i