know how nice you are?"

"Uh-uh," she smiled, shaking her head to mean "no."

"Wait till we get to the mountains. I'll tell you." He sealed her lips
with his, holding her until her breath was almost gone.

"Oh," she exclaimed; "you're terrible. You're like steel."

"And you're like a big red rose. Kiss me!"

From Christina he learned all about the musical world and musical
personalities. He gained an insight into the different forms of music,
operatic, symphonic, instrumental. He learned of the different forms of
composition, the terminology, the mystery of the vocal cords, the
methods of training. He learned of the jealousies within the profession,
and what the best musical authorities thought of such and such
composers, or singers. He learned how difficult it was to gain a place
in the operatic world, how bitterly singers fought each other, how quick
the public was to desert a fading star. Christina took it all so
unconcernedly that he almost loved her for her courage. She was so wise
and so good natured.

"You have to give up a lot of things to be a good artist," she said to
Eugene one day. "You can't have the ordinary life, and art too."

"Just what do you mean, Chrissy?" he asked, petting her hand, for they
were alone together.

"Why, you can't get married very well and have children, and you can't
do much in a social way. Oh, I know they do get married, but sometimes I
think it is a mistake. Most of the singers I know don't do so very well
tied down by marriage."

"Don't you intend to get married?" asked Eugene curiously.

"I don't know," she replied, realizing what he was driving at. "I'd want
to think about that. A woman artist is in a d---- of a position anyway,"
using the letter d only to indicate the word "devil." "She has so many
things to think about."

"For instance?"

"Oh, what people think and her family think, and I don't know what all.
They ought to get a new sex for artists--like they have for worker
bees."

Eugene smiled. He knew what she was driving at. But he did not know how
long she had been debating the problem of her virginity as conflicting
with her love of distinction in art. She was nearly sure she did not
want to complicate her art life with marriage. She was almost positive
that success on the operatic stage--particularly the great opportunity
for the beginner abroad--was complicated with some liaison. Some
escaped, but it was not many. She was wondering in her own mind whe