Lombardy where--where I met--my fate."

"Met your fate?" asked the Doctor quickly after a moment. His face
was in the shadow and not a note in his voice betrayed his anxiety.

"Yes," answered the singer lady in a dreamy, reminiscent voice. The
moon shone full down into her very lovely face, fell across her
white throat and shimmered into the faint rose folds of her dainty
gown. Her close, dark braids showed black against the fragrant
wistaria vines and her eyes were deep and velvety in the soft light.
"Yes, it was the summer I was eighteen and I had gone over with my
father for a month or two of recuperation for him after a long extra
session of Congress. Monsieur LaTour was staying in the little
village, also recuperating. He heard me singing to father, and that
night my fate was sealed. It was a wonderful thing to come to me--
and I was so young."

"Tell me about it," said the Doctor quietly, and his voice was
perfectly steady, though his heart pounded like mad and his cigar
shook in his fingers.

"My father died at the end of the summer, after only a few day's
illness, and he had grown to believe what LaTour said of my voice,
and to have great confidence in my future. I had no near relatives
and in his will he left me to Monsieur LaTour and Madame, his wife.
She is an American and her father had been in the Senate with father
for years. Monsieur is a very great teacher, perhaps the greatest
living. Madame wanted to come to Providence with me, but Doctor
Stein insisted that I come alone. I--I'm very glad she didn't,
though they both love me and await--" She paused and leaned her