distinguished persons of every
profession.

To-night he was to appear before the smaller world of diplomacy and
politics. But he was very confident of himself. If he had not failed
on that vast stage, he would not disgrace himself on a smaller one.

The Princess Zouroff was devoted to music, as was her daughter. The
somewhat brutal Prince, her son, could not distinguish one note from
another--like his father, whose death had been regretted by nobody,
excepting his son.

The difference between father and son was very easy to define. The
late Prince Zouroff was both brutal and brainless. The present holder
of the title was of quite as brutal nature as his father, but he
possessed mentality. In short, he inherited the brains of his mother,
the gentle, grey-haired lady, whom he despised for her womanly
qualities.

Two _prime donne_ and a celebrated contralto had already sung. The two
_prime donne_ had united in a duet which resembled the warbles of two
nightingales; the contralto had enchanted the audience with her deep
and resonant notes; an accomplished quartette had disbursed exquisite
music.

It was time for the turn of the violinist. Nello Corsini, his slim
figure habited in the garments which he had hired from a costumier in
the neighbourhood of Wardour Street, followed these famous personages.

He was so adaptive that, in this short space, he had learned to
accustom himself to his environment. A few weeks ago he had been
playing in the streets for coppers. To-night he was playing for higher
stakes.

He darted his bright, keen eyes over the illustrious assembly, and his
spirits rose, as they always did when something was to be striven for.

In a far corner he saw three men standing together and whispering
confidentially. One was the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, wearing
the ribbon of the Garter; another was that brilliant genius, too early
eclipsed, Lord Randolph Churchill; the third was a slim, tall young
man, who had taken on the dangerous post of Secretary for Ireland,
still now with us, beloved and revered by all parties, Arthur James
Balfour, who later succeeded his great uncle as Prime Minister.

In these far-off days the old melodies were the sweetest. Nello played
first the "Ave Maria" of Gounod. He followed on with Chopin. And then,
as a finale, he played that exquisite little romance which had floated
on a wintry night out of the window of a house in Dean Street, with
his own variations.

Th