Among those who saw the pretty picture and heard the song was the maid of a Mademoiselle Lundberg, a dancer at the Royal Opera House. She was told such an ecstatic story of the child's beautiful voice, that she became deeply interested, and having found out that the little singer's name was Jenny Lind wrote a note asking the child's mother, Fru Lind, to bring Jenny to her home that she might hear her sing. Fru Lind acceded to the request and when she took Jenny to pay the promised visit, and the child's voice had been tried, Mademoiselle Lundberg clasped her hands in rapture, exclaiming: "She is a genius. You must have her educated for the stage." The words meant nothing to Jenny, but they struck terror to the heart of the mother, to whose old-fashioned notions the stage was another name for ruin. In vain the actress pleaded that it would be a sin to allow such talent to be wasted,--still Fru Lind shook her head, and the actress diplomatically argued no more, but by eager questions learned the history of Jenny's family. Being the wife of an amiable and good-natured man who was unable to support his family, Fru Lind was obliged to keep a small school in Stockholm to eke out expenses, and as she had not time to take care of Jenny as well as teach, the child had for three years been boarded out with a church organist's family not far from the city, but had finally been brought back, to become a pupil in her mother's school, being cared for mainly by her grandmother, to whom Jenny was devotedly attached. All this Mademoiselle Lundberg learned from answers to her questions, and seeing her keen interest, the mother continued her narrative, "It was my mother who first noticed Jenny's voice," she said. "Some street musicians had been playing in front of the house and the child must have heard them and listened closely, for as soon as they were gone, she went to the piano and played and sang the air she had heard. My mother in the next room, hearing the music, thought Jenny's half sister was at the piano, and called out, 'Amalia, is that you?' Jenny, evidently fearing she had done something to be punished for, crept under the piano, where my mother found her and pulling her out, exclaimed, 'Why, child, was that _you_?'" Jenny said that it was, and as soon as Fru Lind came in, the grandmother gleefully told her daughter the incident, adding, "Mark my words, that child will bring you help," and the mother, struggling so hard to make ends meet, devoutly hoped that the prediction might come true.