hould strain every nerve to improve, I haf not
praised you enough--and so you haf not understood. Leesten, then. You
haf a voice than which there is not one so good in the whole of Europe.
It is superb--marvellous--the voice of the century. With that voice
you will haf the whole world at your feet; before long you will command
almost fabulous fees, and more, far more than this, you can interpret
the music of the great masters as they themselves would wish to hear
it. Me, Baroni, I know it. And you would fling such possibilities,
such a career, aside for mere matrimony! It is nonsense, I tell you,
sheer nonsense!"

He paused for breath, and Diana laid her hand deprecatingly on his arm.

"Dear _Maestro_," she said, "it's good of you to tell me all this,
and--and you mustn't think for one moment that I ever forget all you've
done for me. It's you who've made my voice what it is. But there
isn't the least reason why I should give up singing because I'm going
to be married. I don't intend to, I assure you."

"I haf no doubt you mean well. But I haf heard other young singers say
the same thing, and then the husband--the so English husband!--he
objects to his wife's appearing in public, and _presto_! . . . Away
goes the career! No singer should marry until she is well established
in her profession. You are young. Marry in ten years' time and you
shall haf my blessing."

"I shall want your blessing sooner than that," laughed Diana. "But I'm
not marrying a 'so English husband'! He's only partly English, and
he's quite willing for me to go on singing."

Baroni regarded her seriously.

"Is that so? Good! Then I will talk to the young man, so that he may
realise that he is not marrying just Mees Diana Quentin, but a voice--a
heaven-bestowed voice. What is his name?"

"You know him," she answered smilingly. "It's Max Errington."

She was utterly unprepared for the effect of her words. Baroni's face
darkened like a stormy sky, and his eyes literally blazed at her from
beneath their penthouse of shaggy brow.

"Max Errington! _Donnerwetter_! But that is the worst of all!"

Diana stared, at him in mute amazement, and, despite herself, her heart
sank with a sudden desperate apprehension. What did it mean? Why
should the mere mention of Max's name have roused the old _maestro_ to
such a fever of indignation?

Presently Baroni turned to her again, speaking more composedly,
although little sparks of ang