when they are sad
and disheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial
harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives.
Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to
the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrument, or open
their mouths to sing, without producing sounds that put all other human
sounds to shame. Then people who do not know that the Angel has
visited those persons say that they have genius.

Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel of Music.
But Daddy Daae shook his head sadly; and then his eyes lit up, as he
said:

"You will hear him one day, my child! When I am in Heaven, I will send
him to you!"

Daddy was beginning to cough at that time.

Three years later, Raoul and Christine met again at Perros. Professor
Valerius was dead, but his widow remained in France with Daddy Daae and
his daughter, who continued to play the violin and sing, wrapping in
their dream of harmony their kind patroness, who seemed henceforth to
live on music alone. The young man, as he now was, had come to Perros
on the chance of finding them and went straight to the house in which
they used to stay. He first saw the old man; and then Christine
entered, carrying the tea-tray. She flushed at the sight of Raoul, who
went up to her and kissed her. She asked him a few questions,
performed her duties as hostess prettily, took up the tray again and
left the room. Then she ran into the garden and took refuge on a
bench, a prey to feelings that stirred her young heart for the first
time. Raoul followed her and they talked till the evening, very shyly.
They were quite changed, cautious as two diplomatists, and told each
other things that had nothing to do with their budding sentiments.
When they took leave of each other by the roadside, Raoul, pressing a
kiss on Christine's trembling hand, said:

"Mademoiselle, I shall never forget you!"

And he went away regretting his words, for he knew that Christine could
not be the wife of the Vicomte de Chagny.

As for Christine, she tried not to think of him and devoted herself
wholly to her art. She made wonderful progress and those who heard her
prophesied that she would be the greatest singer in the world.
Meanwhile, the father died; and, suddenly, she seemed to have lost,
with him, her voice, her soul and her genius. She retained just, but
only just, enough of this to enter the CONSERVATOIRE, where sh