ur_, and then just melted. His bow is a revelation, and his
smile a treat. It appears that he has heard of you. 'I know, I know,' he
exclaimed, as soon as I mentioned your name. 'La Signora Francesca
Dupont, oh, yes. More as one year ago I 'ear of la Signora. My friend
Fiorentino in Paris he wrote me she come right away to America. Him say
she has one voice _di primo cartello_, a very fine beautiful
_mezzo-soprano_, very much _maravigliosa_. I much wonder I do not 'ear
about the Signora. Her disappear, no one know nothing. Ah, her was sick
in de throat! And now all well again. No use the voice long time. _Per
favore_, Signor Cole, you bring me him lady _subito_, and I listen, I
'ear 'er sing, I take 'er and make a great _cantatrice_ of 'er again!'"

Frances looked at me. She rose from her chair and paced about the room,
once or twice. Then she leaned against the piano, that had been placed
in her room, and held her forehead in her hand.

"Listen, David," she said slowly. "Don't make me do this. Don't put such
temptation before me. I'm only a weak woman."

"Frances, but for the thinness of my locks I'd pull out my hair in
despair at your obstinacy," I cried. "I am telling you that they are
selling that book faster than they can print it and that money will soon
be flowing into my coffers. Jamieson has intimated that I could have a
large advance at once, if I wanted it. Moreover, Richetti is--he isn't
going to charge anything. He--he says that you can pay him long after
your tuition is ended."

She came to me, swiftly, and put her hands on my shoulders, her eyes
searching mine, which could not stand her gaze.

"My poor dear Dave. You--you are such a poor hand at deceiving. I--I
don't think you could fool even Baby Paul. There is too much candor and
honesty in you for that sort of thing."

"Well," I answered, rather lamely, "I--I told him, of course, that I
would guarantee the payment of his honorarium, and he answered that he
must try your voice first, because, if it was not promising, he would
refuse to waste his time on it. He was very frank. Then he told me that
Jamieson's note stated that I was a _scrittore celebre_, a _romanziero
molto distinto_, and that whatever arrangements I wanted to make would
be perfectly satisfactory. He declared, with his hand on his heart, that
money was a great means to an end, but that the thing that really
mattered in this world was art, _Per Bacco_! and the _bel canto_ from
voices