As for me, I knew directly who it was, for the gentleman entering at the door so carelessly, at the same time appearing to take in the whole room with his glance, had a violin-case in his hand. I shall not forget his manner of being immediately at home, nodding to one and another amiably, but with a slight sneer upon his lip, which he probably could not help, as his mouth was very finely cut. I felt certain it was Santonio; and while the gentleman upon the rug addressed him very excitedly, and received a cool reply, though I could not hear what it was, for all the men were talking, Davy came up to us and confirmed my presentiment. "What a handsome gentleman he is, but how he stares!" said Clara, in a serious manner that set me laughing; and then Davy whispered "Hush!" But it was of little use, for Santonio came up now to our corner, and deposited his case on the next chair to Miss Benette, looking at her all the while and at me, so that we could well see his face. It was certainly very handsome,--a trifle too handsome, perhaps, yet full of harmonious lines, and the features were very pure. His complexion was glowing, yet fair, and passed well by contrast into the hue of his eyes, which were of that musical gray more blue than slate-colored. Had he been less handsome, the Hebrew contour might have been more easily detected; as it was, it was clear to me, but might not have occurred to others who did not look for it. A brilliant person, such as I have seldom seen, he yet interested more by his gestures, his way of scanning, and smiling to himself, his defiant self-composure, something discomposing to those about him, than by his positive personal attractions. Having examined us, he examined also Davy, and said specially, "How are you?" "Quite well, thank you," replied our master; "I had no right to expect you would remember me, Mr. Santonio." "Oh! I never forget anybody," was the reply; "I often wish I did, for I have seen everybody now, and there is no one else to see." "Oh!" thought I to myself, but I said nothing, "you have not seen _one_." For I felt sure, I knew not why, that he had not. "Is this your son, Davy?" questioned he, once more speaking, and looking down upon me for an instant. "Certainly not; my pupil and favorite alto." "Is he for the profession, then?" "What do you say, Charles?" "Yes, Mr. Davy, certainly." "If I don't mistake, it will not be alto long, though," said Santonio, with lightness; "his arm and hand are ready made for me."