Here the curtain rose, and our thoughts were soon occupied by the stage. When the concert was over, my new friend as he shook my hand, said, "I can rely upon your calling to-morrow, Dr. Fenwick?" "I will not fail you." "I don't know how it is," he said, "but though we are strangers I have a prophetic instinct that you can help me." "I will do my best, Mr. Vincent." Congratulating myself on my new and promising patient, I made my way into the lobby. There presently I met Mrs. Wyman and Count Penelli. I learned later that she had purchased two cheap seats and invited the Count to accompany her. They had not distinguished me in the audience, I was so far away from them. "Dr. Fenwick!" exclaimed Mrs. Wyman, in surprise. "I thought you said you were not coming." "I changed my mind," I answered, smiling. "Of course, you enjoyed the concert?" "Did I not? But where were you sitting?" "In the orchestra." "What! Among the millionaires?" "I don't know if they were millionaires. I was ashamed of my appearance. All wore dress suits except myself and the ladies." "It seems to me, doctor, you were extravagant." "It does seem so." I did not propose to enlighten Mrs. Wyman as to the small expense I was at for a ticket. I could see with secret amusement that her respect for me was increased by my supposed liberal outlay. In this respect I showed to advantage beside her escort who had availed himself of a ticket purchased by her. She had represented that the tickets were sent her by the management. "The Count had an advantage over us," said the widow. "He could understand the language." "_Si_, Signora," said the Count, with a smile. "It wasn't the words I cared for," said I. "I should enjoy Patti if she sang in Arabic." "Well, perhaps so. Were you ever in Italy, doctor?" "No, the only foreign country I ever visited was New Jersey." "Is New Jersey then a foreign country?" asked the Count, puzzled. "It is only a joke, Count," said the widow. "And a poor one, I admit." "The Count had been telling me of his ancestral home, of the vine-clad hills, and the olive trees, and the orange groves. Oh, I am wild to visit that charming Italy." "Perhaps you may do so some day, my dear Mrs. Wyman," said the Count, in a soft tone. The widow cast down her eyes. "It would be too lovely," she said. When we reached the boarding-house, the Count asked, "May I come up to your room, Dr. Fenwick?" "Certainly. I shall be glad to have you do so." My room was a small one. I should have had to pay a higher price for a larger one. However, I gave the Count my only chair, and sat on the bed. "Is it permitted?" he asked, as he lighted a cigarette. "Oh, yes," I replied, but I only said so out of politeness. It was decidedly disagreeable to have any one smoke in my chamber in the evening. I could, however, open the window afterwards and give it an airing. "Mrs. Wyman is a very fine woman," said the Count, after a pause. "Very," I responded, briefly.