fic matters were discussed before
him, as he had become rough, tyrannical, and almost violent in his
ordinary dealings with the world, whenever he found any opposition to
his opinions or his will. The only exception he made was in his
treatment of his daughter, whom he indulged in every way except in her
desire to be a public singer. It seemed to him that to give her
everything she wanted was to fulfil all his obligations to her; in the
one question of appearing on the stage he was inflexible. He simply
refused to hear of it, rarely giving her any reasons beyond the ordinary
ones which present themselves in such cases, and which were far from
answering the impulse of the girl's genius.

They had called her Gloria in the days of their passionate happiness.
The sentimental name had meant a great deal to them, for Dalrymple had
at that time developed that sort of uncouth sentimentality which is in
strong men like a fungus on an oak, and disgusts them afterwards unless
they are able to forget it. The two had felt that the glory of life was
in the child, and they had named her for it, as it were.

Years afterwards Dalrymple brought the little girl to Rome, drawn back
irresistibly to the place by that physical association of impressions
which moves such men strongly. They had remained, keeping from year to
year a lodging Dalrymple had hired, at first hired for a few months. He
never went to Subiaco.

He gave Gloria teachers, the best that could be found, and there were
good instructors in those days when people were willing to take time in
learning. In music she had her mother's voice and talent. Her father
gave her a musician's opportunities, and it was no wonder that she
should dream of conquering Europe from behind the footlights as Grisi
had done, and as Patti was just about to do in her turn.

She and her father spoke English together, but Gloria was bilingual, as
children of mixed marriages often are, speaking English and Italian with
equal ease. Dalrymple found a respectable middle-aged German governess
who came daily and spent most of the day with Gloria, teaching her and
walking with her--worshipping her, too, with that curious faculty for
idealizing the very human, which belongs to German governesses when they
like their pupils.

Dalrymple led his own life. Had he chosen to mix in Roman society, he
would have been well received, as a member of a great Scotch family and
not very far removed from the head of his