"Not at all. I'm interested. This Signor Baroni who is training your
voice--he is the finest teacher in the world. You must have a very
beautiful voice for him to have accepted you as a pupil." There was a
hint of surprise in his tones.

"Oh, no," she hastened to assure him modestly. "I expect it was more
that I had the luck to catch him in a good mood that afternoon."

"And his moods vary considerably, don't they?" he said, smiling as though
at some personal recollection.

"Oh, do you know him?" asked Diana eagerly.

In an instant his face became a blank mask; it was as though a shutter
had descended, blotting out all its vivacious interest.

"I have met him," he responded briefly. Then, turning the subject
adroitly, he went on: "So now you are on your way home for a well-earned
holiday? Your people must be looking forward to seeing you after so long
a time--you have been away a year, didn't you say?"

"Yes, I spent the other two vacations abroad, in Italy, for the sake of
acquiring the language. Signor Baroni"--laughingly--"was horror-stricken
at my Italian, so he insisted. But I have no people--not really, you
know," she continued. "I live with my guardian and his daughter. Both
my parents died when I was quite young."

"You are not very old now," he interjected.

"I'm eighteen," she answered seriously.