der. She wondered whether it was
the window of the singer's own especial room.

The house was different from those next it, though she could hardly
tell where the difference lay. She thought that if she had not known
the number she should have instinctively picked out this house, amongst
all the others in that part of the Avenue Hoche, as the one in which
the prima donna or an actress must be living; and as she stood waiting,
a very simple and well-bred figure of a young lady, she felt that on
the other side of the door there was a whole world of which she knew
nothing, which was not at all like her own world, which was going to
offend something in her, and which it was nevertheless her duty to
enter. She was in that state of mind in which a nun breathes an
ejaculatory prayer against the wiles of Satan, and a delicately
nurtured girl thinks of her mother. Her heart hardly beat any faster
than usual, though she was sure that one of the great moments of her
life was at hand; but she drew her skirt round her a little closer, and
pursed her lips together a little more tightly, and was very glad to
feel that nobody could mistake her for anything but a lady.

CHAPTER III

The servant who opened the door smiled. He was a man of thirty-five, or
thereabouts, with cheerful blue eyes, a brown moustache and pink
cheeks. He wore a blue cotton apron and had a feather duster in his
hand; and he smiled very pleasantly.

'Madame Bonanni said she would see me this morning,' Margaret
explained.

'What name, if you please?' the man asked, contemplating her with
approval.

'Miss Donne.'

'Very well. But Madame is in her bath,' observed the servant, showing
no inclination to let Margaret pass. 'Mademoiselle would do better to
come another day.'

'But Madame Bonanni has given me an appointment.'

'It is possible,' the man replied, still smiling calmly.

'I have come to sing to her,' Margaret said, with a little impatience.

'Ah--then it is different!' He positively beamed. 'Then Mademoiselle is
a musician? Who would have thought it?'

Margaret was not quite sure who would have thought it, but she thought
the servant decidedly familiar. At that moment he stood aside for her
to pass, shut the front door after her and led the way to the short
flight of steps that gave access to the house from the carriage
entrance.

'This way, Mademoiselle. If Mademoiselle will be good enough to wait, I
will inform Madame.'

'Please d