"You theenk I was too severe with him?" he said placidly. "But no. He
is like iron, that young man; he wants hammer-blows."

"I think he got them," replied Diana crisply, and then stopped, aghast at
her own temerity. She glanced anxiously at Baroni to see if he had
resented her remark, only to find him surveying her with a radiant smile
and looking exactly like a large, pleased child.

"We shall get on, the one with the other," he observed contentedly.
"Yes, we shall get on. And now--who are you? I do not remember
names"--with a terrific roll of his R's--"but you haf a very pree-ty
face--and I never forget a pree-ty face."

"I'm--I'm Diana Quentin," she blurted out, nervousness once more
overpowering her as she realised that the moment of her ordeal was
approaching. "I've come to have my voice tried."

Baroni picked up a memorandum book from his table, turning over the pages
till he came to her name.

"Ach! I remember now. Miss Waghorne--my old pupil sent you. She has
been teaching you, isn't it so?"

Diana nodded.

"Yes, I've had a few lessons from her, and she hoped that possibly you
would take me as a pupil."

It was out at last--the proposal which now, in the actual presence of the
great man himself, seemed nothing less than a piece of stupendous