e," was his verdict. "You have a good body,
good muscles, but flabby--a lady's muscles, not an opera singer's. And
you are stiff--not so stiff as when you first came here, but stiff for
a professional. Ah, we must go at this scientifically, thoroughly."

"You will teach me to breathe--and how to produce my voice naturally?"

"I will teach you nothing," replied he. "I will tell you what to do,
and you will teach yourself. You must get strong--strong in the supple
way--and then you will sing as God intended. The way to sing, dear
young lady, is to sing. Not to breathe artificially, and make faces,
and fuss with your throat, but simply to drop your mouth and throat
open and let it out!"

Mildred produced from her hand-bag the Keith paper. "What do YOU think
of that?" she asked.

Presently he looked up from his reading. "This part I have seen
before," said he. "It is Lucia Rivi's. Her cousin, Lotta Drusini,
showed it to me--she was a great singer also."

"You approve of it?"

"If you will follow that for two years, faithfully, you will be
securely great, and then you will follow it all your singing life--and
it will be long. But remember, dear young lady, I said IF you follow
it, and I said faithfully. I do not believe you can."

"Why not?" said Mildred.

"Because that means self-denial, colossal self-denial. You love things
to eat--yes?"

Mildred nodded.

"We all do," said Moldini. "And we hate routine, and we like foolish,
aimless little pleasures of all kinds."

"And it will be two years before I can try grand opera--can make my
living?" said Mildred slowly.

"I did not say that. I said, before you would be great. No, you can
sing, I think, in--wait."

Moldini flung rapidly through an enormous mass of music on a large
table. "Ah, here!" he cried, and he showed her a manuscript of scales.
"Those two papers. It does not look much? Well, I have made it up,
myself. And when you can sing those two papers perfectly, you will be
a greater singer than any that ever lived." He laughed delightedly.
"Yes, it is all there--in two pages. But do not weep, dear lady,
because you will never sing them perfectly. You will do very well if--
Always that if, remember! Now, let us see. Take this, sit in the
chair, and begin. Don't bother about me. I expect nothing. Just do
the best you can."

Desperation, when it falls short of despair, is the best word for
achievement. Mildred's voice, especially