Neapolitan dialetto--dialect, is it right?--that you hear in the
shops and the streets? Ah, I remember you are so proud of it, and when I
try to teach you proper Italian, you laugh--you wish to speak like
Sabetta Debernardi, and Giacomo, and the others. That is the fault to
learn by ear, instead of the books correctly. And you have not forgotten
yet!"

"Well, Nina," he resumed, "I don't seem to have frightened you with the
possibility of your having to dress in the same room with two or three
chorus-girls whom you don't know; and in fact, if I happened to be
acquainted with the theatre, I dare say I could get the manager to make
sure you were to dress along with some nice girl, who would show you
how to make-up, and all that. But you would get a very small salary to
begin with, Nina; perhaps only thirty shillings a week--and an extra
pound a week when you had to take up your under-study duties--however,
that need not trouble you, because we are old comrades, Nina, and while
you are in England my purse is yours--"

She looked at him doubtfully.

"Ah, you don't understand," he said, gently. "It's only this, Nina: I
have plenty of money; if you are a good comrade and a good friend, you
will take from me what you want--always--at any moment--"

The pretty, pale-olive face flushed quickly, and for a brief second she
glanced at him with grateful eyes; but it was perhaps to cover her
embarrassment that she now rose from the piano, and pretended to be
tired of the music and of these professional schemes.

"It is enough of booziness," she said, lightly; "come, Leo, will you go
for a small walk?--have you time?"

"Oh, yes, I have time," said he, "but you must not say _booziness_,
Nina? it is _bizness_."

"_Beezness!_--_beezness!_" she said, smiling. "It is enough of
_beezness_. You go for a walk with me--yes? How beautiful the weather!"
she continued, in a suddenly altered tone, as she looked out at the
sunlit foliage of the Green Park; and then she murmured, almost to
herself, in those soft Italian vowel sounds:

"Ah, Leo mio, che sarei felice d'essere in campagna!"

It was a kind of sigh; perhaps that was the reason she had inadvertently
relapsed into her own tongue. And as they went down the stairs, and he
opened the door for her, the few words he addressed to her were also in
Italian.

"The country!" he said. "We will just step across the street, Nina, and
you will find yourself in what is quite as pretty as the c