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You what are you? Nothing but a singer, who has not even appeared before the public, without a baiocco in the world or anything else but your voice. You are not even handsome." "What difference does that make to a woman of heart?" retorted Nino angrily. "Let me only speak to her " "A thousand devils!" exclaimed De Pretis impatiently; "what good will you do by speaking to her?
De Pretis was alarmed, for the old count looked as though he would have carried out the threat. "As it is," he concluded, "you are an honourable man, and I wish you good-morning. Lady Hedwig awaits you as usual." He rose courteously, leaning on his stick, and De Pretis bowed himself out.
I am therefore to hear your explanation disposed." His grey eyes fastened sternly on the maestro. But the latter was prepared, for he had long foreseen that the count would one day be disposed to hear an explanation, as he expressed it. "It is quite true," repeated De Pretis. "The young man was very poor, and desired to support himself while he was studying music.
De Pretis did not praise him much to his face after they had begun to study, but he felt sure he would succeed. "Caro Conte," he often calls me Count, though I am only plain Professore, now "he has a voice like a trumpet and the patience of all the angels. He will be a great singer." "Well, it is not my fault," I used to answer; for what could I do?
Far off at the other end of the room De Pretis struck a chord on the piano. They started at the sound. "When?" whispered Nino, hurriedly. "At midnight, under my window," she answered, quickly, not thinking of anything better in her haste. "I will tell you then. You must go; my father will soon be here. No, not again," she protested. But he drew her to him, and said good-bye in his own manner.
"Your voice has changed. Sing something, can't you?" Nino sang a church air he had caught somewhere. I never heard such a voice, but it gave me a queer sensation that I liked it was so true, and young, and clear. De Pretis sat open-mouthed with astonishment and admiration. When the boy had finished, he stood looking at the maestro, blushing very scarlet, and altogether ashamed of himself.
The rosy streaks came first, quite suddenly, and in a few minutes the sun was up, and the eventful night was past. I was never so glad to get rid of a night in my life. It is fortunate that I am so thin and light, for I could never have reached the high-road alive had I been as fat as De Pretis is; and certainly the little donkey would have died by the way.
Then she explained that, as there was so much food in the kitchen in anticipation of our supper, she had been afraid to leave the cat alone in the house, lest we should find nothing left to eat when we returned. This was sufficiently prudent for a scatter-brained old spendthrift like Mariuccia. That was a merry supper, and De Pretis became highly dramatic when we got to the second flask.
It is a habit I have fallen into, from having to watch that old woman, for fear she should be too extravagant. All that time he never said anything, and I supposed he had forgotten all about the contessina, for I did not chance to see De Pretis; and when I did he talked of nothing but Nino's début and the arrangements that were to be made.
I could not smoke, and when I tried to go to sleep that cat an apoplexy on her! climbed up on my shoulder and clawed my hair, Mariuccia sat moaning in the kitchen and could not cook at all, so that I was half starved. At three o'clock De Pretis came back. "Courage, conte mio!" he cried; and I knew it was all right. "Courage!
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