and he would give me lessons for nothing. I said I was afraid
not, for I knew the school was in rather low water, and that Miss
McDonald, so far from being able to keep me for nothing, had dismissed
the junior governess, and that I was to fill the vacant post.

"'Nevare mind,' he said, 'we vill find ze way. I, Giorgi Vanucci, to you
make ze assurance.'

"Then he took down my name and address very carefully in a note-book and
sent me away. I was so excited that I walked the whole way from Berners
Street to Hampstead, and felt all the time not as though I were walking
on hard pavement, but as though I were treading on air. I knew from his
manner that Signor Vanucci meant to help me, and that it would be all
right for me to accept his kindness, for I could pay him back afterwards
when I became a famous singer. The next day Miss McDonald came back, and
the day after the girls returned, and the old, dull, insufferably stupid
round began again. But all the time I was thinking, 'This won't last long
for me; in a few days Signor Vanucci will write and tell her the
wonderful news about me.' Miss McDonald noticed how happy I was, and told
me that she was glad that I was at last showing more interest in my work
as a teacher. 'For, my dear,' she said, rather sadly, 'it is no use your
quarrelling with your bread-and-butter. You may not like teaching, but it
appears to me the only opening possible to you.' I only laughed and
danced about the room and hugged her. Wait, I thought, until that letter
comes from Signor Vanucci, and you will see that you will be nothing to
the man who cut bread-and-butter with a razor, for you will have been
guilty of the enormity of setting a Melba and a Patti down to teach
children their Sol-re-fa.

"But that letter never came; and about ten days later I knew why, for I
saw in the papers that the famous musician, Signor Vanucci, had been
knocked down by a motor-car when crossing a street near his house, and
though not much injured, had died a few hours after from the shock."

"And what did you do?" asked Margaret, feeling very much inclined to cry
when she heard how Eleanor's high hopes had thus been laid low.

"Do?" said Eleanor sadly; "there was nothing to be done. I grieved for
the dreadfully sudden death of the old man, and I shall never forget his
kindness, and I shall always feel as grateful to him as though he had
lived to carry out his generous intentions towards me. But, of course,
his deat