introduced his little pupil to the count, and asked him to
engage her as "_eleve_ for the opera." "You ask a foolish thing!" said the
count, gruffly, looking disdainfully down on the poor little girl. "What
shall we do with that ugly thing? see what feet she has? And then her
face? She will never be presentable. No, we can not take her. Away with
her!"

The music master insisted, almost indignantly. "Well," exclaimed he at
last, "if you will not take her, poor as I am, I will take her myself, and
have her educated for the scene; such another ear as she has for music is
not to be found in the world!"

The count relented. The little girl was at last admitted into the school
for _eleves_, at the Opera, and with some difficulty a simple gown of
black bombazine was procured for her. The care of her musical education
was left to an able master, Mr. Albert Breg, director of the song school
of the Opera.

Some years later, at a comedy given by the _eleves_ of the theatre,
several persons were struck by the spirit and life with which a very young
_eleve_ acted the part of a beggar-girl in the play. Lovers of genial
nature were charmed, pedants almost frightened. It was our poor little
girl, who had made her first appearance, now about fourteen years of age,
frolicksome and full of fun as a child.

A few years still later, a young debutante was to sing for the first time
before the public in Weber's Freischutz. At the rehearsal preceding the
representation of the evening, she sang in a manner which made the members
of the orchestra at once lay down their instruments to clap their hands in
rapturous applause. It was our poor, plain little girl here again, who now
had grown up and was to appear before the public in the role of Agatha. I
saw her at the evening representation. She was then in the prime of youth,
fresh, bright, and serene as a morning in May--perfect in form--her hands
and her arms peculiarly graceful--and lovely in her whole appearance,
through the expression of her countenance, and the noble simplicity and
calmness of her manners. In fact she was charming. We saw not an actress,
but a young girl full of natural geniality and grace. She seemed to move,
speak, and sing without effort or art. All was nature and harmony. Her
song was distinguished especially by its purity, and the power of soul
which seemed to swell in her tones. Her "mezzo voice" was delightful. In
the night scene where Agatha, seeing her lover com