himself, the other marked "Private" and directed to the Baron Andreas
Salmoros, 510 Old Broad Street, E.C.

The note to Nello, dated a few days after the more or less informal
will, was short but to the point.

Peron informed his protege, at the time of writing, that his artistic
career still hung in the balance. That even if he achieved a certain
success, his career was an uncertain one. It behoved him therefore to
set his ambitions in other directions which might yield more permanent
results. The letter concluded as follows:

"There yet remains one person in the world who will still
take an interest in me. For the remembrance of those days
long ago, he may prove of service to you when I am gone.
After all is over with me, carry this letter to him yourself.
Trust it to no other hands. Of course you have guessed that
Peron is an assumed name. If the Baron likes to reveal to you
my identity, he will do so. It will matter no longer to me."

Nello gasped, as he laid down the letter. "But dear old Papa Peron
must have been a distinguished man at one time. He speaks of Salmoros
as an old, I should say a great, friend of the long ago. Of course you
do not know who he is."

Anita shook her head. She had never heard of the Baron Andreas
Salmoros. How should she? Absorbed in her domestic cares, she never
read the newspapers.

"But he is one of the greatest financiers in the world," cried Nello
eagerly. "He is only second to the Rothschilds themselves."

And then it suddenly struck him that Salmoros was a very busy man,
that approach to him was difficult. Peron had expressly said that he
was to take the letter to him himself. If Peron had only written a
private note introducing him, a note that could be posted! But the
poor Papa had not thought of that, of course.

Then there recurred to him the altered circumstances which had taken
place since that letter was written.

Then he was just Signor Nello Corsini, unknown and poor. To-day all
the newspapers, London and provincial, had blazoned forth his name as
a brilliant and successful artist. Even the great financier would
welcome a great musician.

And even if he did not, the Princess Zouroff, at whose house he had
played to-night, the Countess, at whose house he was playing shortly,
would secure him a personal introduction. It was a certainty that the
Baron's vast wealth enabled him to mix in their world.

CHAPTER VI

A month had