The Intendant of the Royal Opera at that time was Count von Hochberg, a charming, courteous gentleman, who was to show me many favors afterward. He heard me through, attended by a score of Frau von Rath's friends, and then asked me gravely if I had ever sung with an orchestra. I answered truthfully: "No." "Would you like to sing with the orchestra of the Royal Opera?" he inquired. "I should be delighted," was my prompt response. "Do you sing in German?" "I never have--yet," I replied. [Illustration: THE ROYAL OPERA HOUSE, BERLIN] "Could you learn to sing in German in ten days?" he urged. "I can learn something. What shall it be?" "Will you study 'Elsa's Dream'?" "Yes--" "Then in ten days, at the Royal Opera, I will hear you again." He bowed and took his departure. Feverishly I began to study German, aided by my dear friend and teacher, Fraeulein Wilcke, to whose guidance these many years I owe as excellent a German diction as any foreign or native artist possesses. When I stepped upon the stage of the great empty Koenigliches Opernhaus and looked down into the Director's seat, whom should I see but Dr. Karl Muck, now the Director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. That was the beginning of a warm friendship which has endured to this day, for Dr. Muck was at all times kind and sympathetic during those early days in Berlin. I sang the waltz from "Romeo and Juliet," in French, the bird song from "Pagliacci," in Italian, and "Elsa's Dream," in German. I finished in absolute silence, as Count von Hochberg was almost alone in the darkened auditorium. Soon he came back to me and said:-- "In my office I have a contract with you for three years. Do you care to sign it?" "But I had no idea of singing in Berlin," I protested. "I want to sing Italian." "If I let you sing here in Italian, will you sign it?" "Here--in Berlin--sing in Italian?" I gasped. "It will be a novelty," replied Count von Hochberg. "But the people here want one. You are very much of a novelty, quite different from the stout ladies who waddle about protesting their operatic fate to spectators who find it difficult to believe in their cruel lot and youthful innocence. In you I have discovered a happy combination of voice, figure, personality, and--eyes." He was something of a cavalier, that nice Count von Hochberg, as you will see. "To secure you for my patrons I will let you sing in Italian." What could I say? It was the greatest compliment yet paid me. I glanced around the Opernhaus, hesitating. Then--I consented. The legal contract for three years was signed by my mother and father for me, as I was still under age. It was agreed that I was to sing "Faust," "Traviata," and "Pagliacci," three roles, in Italian, but I was not to be required to sing in German until I should perfect myself in the language. [Illustration: SIGNED PHOTO OF WILHELM II OF GERMANY WITH A CHILD]