“Not at all. She welcomed me most heartily; and when I told her that I had come to see if I could not sing there she seemed much pleased. She treated me like a daughter, explained all that she was trying to do, and gave me a world of encouragement. Finally I arranged to sing and create ‘Elsa’ after my own idea of it during the season following the one then approaching.” “What did you do meanwhile?” “I came to New York to fulfil my contract for the season of 1894-1895. While doing that I made a study of Wagner’s, and, indeed, of all German music; and when the season was over went back and sang it.” “To Frau Wagner’s satisfaction?” “Yes.” “Have you found your work very exacting?” “Decidedly so. It leaves little time for anything else.” “To do what you have done requires a powerful physique, to begin with?” “Yes, I should judge so.” “Are you ever put under extraordinary mental strain?” “Occasionally.” “In what manner?” “Why, in my manner of study. I remember once, during my season under Augustus Harris, of an incident of this order. He gave a garden party one Sunday to which several of his company were invited, myself included. When the afternoon was well along he came to me and said: ‘Did you ever sing “Valencia” in “The Huguenots”?’ I told him I had not. “‘Do you think you could learn the music and sing it by next Saturday night?’ “I felt a little appalled at the question, but ventured to say that I could. I knew that hard work would do it. “‘Then do,’ he replied; ‘for I must have you sing it.’ “Let me ask you one thing,” I said. “Has America good musical material?” THE MUSICAL TALENT OF AMERICAN GIRLS. “As much as any other country, and more, I should think. The higher average of intelligence here should yield a greater percentage of musical intelligence.” “Then there ought to be a number of great American women singers in the future?” “There ought to be, but it is a question whether there will be. They are not cut out for the work which it requires to develop a good voice.” “You think there is good material for great voices in American women, but not sufficient energy?” “That is my fear, not my belief. I have noticed that young women here seem to underestimate the cost of distinction. It means more than most of them are prepared to give; and when they face the exactions of art they falter and drop out. Hence we have many middle-class singers, but few really powerful ones.” “What are these exactions you speak of?” “Time, money, and loss of friends, of pleasure. To be a great singer means, first, to be a great student. To be a great student means that you have no time for balls and parties, very little for friends, and less for carriage rides and pleasant strolls. All that is really left is a shortened allowance of sleep, of time for meals and time for exercise.” “Did you ever imagine that people leaped into permanent fame when still young and without much effort on their part?”