nd friends held aloof from her.
Artists were all very well in their way, but Constance Raby, with her
money and good looks--she was an heiress through her godmother--ought
to have made a brilliant match.

But Mrs. Raby loved her long-haired musician, the more perhaps for the
fact that he was an Englishman, and never repented her choice. And in
time, parents and friends condescended to bury the hatchet and came to
her house, exchanging frigid courtesies with the artistic husband.

To their drawing-rooms flocked the elite of the musical world--great
sopranos, great contraltos, nearly every artist of eminence. And in
that charming house in Kensington Gore they gave for nothing what they
demanded high fees for elsewhere, for was not the host one of their
own world, and had they not adopted his charming wife as one of
themselves?

Mr. Raby had died some ten years ago, but his widow still maintained
the fame of those musical evenings. And to those who had still their
way to make, an appearance in Mrs. Raby's drawing-rooms conferred a
_cachet_.

Mosenstein had secured an invitation for his young client. There was
no fee. When Nello had demurred to this, not quite understanding the
situation, the astute agent had silenced his objections at once.

"You do not understand, my young friend. England is a very funny
place. A lot is done here for love. Mrs. Raby occupies a unique
position. Supposing you were unknown, to play at one of her evenings
would secure you a twenty-guinea engagement in South Kensington.
Patti, Lucca, Nielson have sung there for friendship. Sarasate has
played there for friendship. My friend, if you are wise, you will be
glad that I have procured you an invitation."

Nello made no further objection. Mosenstein knew the ropes as well as
anybody. If he urged him to go to the house in Kensington Gore and
play for nothing he had a wise motive. Mrs. Raby was evidently a power
in the musical world.

The drawing-rooms were crowded, mostly with musical people. But there
were a few others from another world; and amongst these, Nello
presently discovered his patroness, Lady Glendover, who came here out
of sheer love of music. The Countess had to pay five hundred or more
for what Mrs. Raby got for nothing.

She greeted Nello kindly and invited him to sit beside her.

"Do you know many people here?" she asked, as she made way for him on
the sofa.

"So far as I can see, nobody but yourself, Madame."

"Oh, the