from the artist nature--all these, and more, Baroni's experienced eye
read in Diana's upturned face, but it yet remained for him to test the
quality of her vocal organs.

"Well, we shall see," he said non-committally. "I do not take many
pupils."

Diana's heart sank yet a little lower, and she felt almost tempted to
seek refuge in immediate flight rather than remain to face the inevitable
dismissal that she guessed would be her portion.

Baroni, however, put a summary stop to any such wild notions by turning
on her with the lightning-like change of mood which she came afterwards
to know as characteristic of him.

"You haf brought some songs?" He held out his hand. "Good. Let me see
them."

He glanced swiftly through the roll of music which she tendered.

"This one--we will try this. Now"--seating himself at the piano--"open
your mouth, little nightingale, and sing."

Softly he played the opening bars of the prelude to the song, and Diana
watched fascinatedly while he made the notes speak, and sing, and melt
into each other with his short stumpy fingers that looked as though they
and music would have little enough in common.

"Now then. Bee-gin."