one of Carlotta's friends in the
stalls, almost aloud. "The other day she was divine; and to-night
she's simply bleating. She has no experience, no training."

"Gentle flow'rs, lie ye there
And tell her from me ..."

The viscount put his head under his hands and wept. The count, behind
him, viciously gnawed his mustache, shrugged his shoulders and frowned.
For him, usually so cold and correct, to betray his inner feelings like
that, by outward signs, the count must be very angry. He was. He had
seen his brother return from a rapid and mysterious journey in an
alarming state of health. The explanation that followed was
unsatisfactory and the count asked Christine Daae for an appointment.
She had the audacity to reply that she could not see either him or his
brother...

"Would she but deign to hear me
And with one smile to cheer me ..."

"The little baggage!" growled the count.

And he wondered what she wanted. What she was hoping for... She was a
virtuous girl, she was said to have no friend, no protector of any sort
... That angel from the North must be very artful!

Raoul, behind the curtain of his hands that veiled his boyish tears,
thought only of the letter which he received on his return to Paris,
where Christine, fleeing from Perros like a thief in the night, had
arrived before him:

MY DEAR LITTLE PLAYFELLOW:

You must have the courage not to see me again, not to speak of me
again. If you love me just a little, do this for me, for me who will
never forget you, my dear Raoul. My life depends upon it. Your life
depends upon it. YOUR LITTLE CHRISTINE.

Thunders of applause. Carlotta made her entrance.

"I wish I could but know who was he
That addressed me,
If he was noble, or, at least, what his name is ..."

When Margarita had finished singing the ballad of the KING OF THULE,
she was loudly cheered and again when she came to the end of the jewel
song:

"Ah, the joy of past compare
These jewels bright to wear! ..."

Thenceforth, certain of herself, certain of her friends in the house,
certain of her voice and her success, fearing nothing, Carlotta flung
herself into her part without restraint of modesty ... She was no
longer Margarita, she was Carmen. She was applauded all the more; and
her debut with Faust seemed about to bring her a new success, when
suddenly ... a terribl