Seventy-seven years elapsed before eleven o'clock. St. Gilles is a large church in a small deserted square at the back of the town. I waited for Rosa in the western porch, and at five minutes past the hour she arrived, looking better in health, at once more composed and vivacious. We sat down in a corner at the far end of one of the aisles. Except ourselves and a couple of cleaners, there seemed to be no one in the church. "You asked me yesterday about my engagements," she began. "Yes," I said, "and I had a reason. As a doctor, I will take leave to tell you that it is advisable for you to throw yourself into your work as soon as possible, and as completely as possible." And I remembered the similar advice which, out of the plenitude of my youthful wisdom, I had offered to Alresca only a few days before. "The fact is that I have signed a contract to sing 'Carmen' at the Paris Opera Comique in a fortnight's time. I have never sung the role there before, and I am, or rather I was, very anxious to do so. This morning I had a telegram from the manager urging me to go to Paris without delay for the rehearsals." "And are you going?" "That is the question. I may tell you that one of my objects in calling on poor Alresca was to consult him about the point. The truth is, I am threatened with trouble if I appear at the Opera Comique, particularly in 'Carmen.' The whole matter is paltry beyond words, but really I am a little afraid." "May I hear the story?" "You know Carlotta Deschamps, who always takes Carmen at the Comique?" "I've heard her sing." "By the way, that is her half-sister, Marie Deschamps, who sings in your cousin's operas at the London Diana." "I have made the acquaintance of Marie--a harmless little thing!" "Her half-sister isn't quite so harmless. She is the daughter of a Spanish mother, while Marie is the daughter of an English mother, a Cockney woman. As to Carlotta, when I was younger"--oh, the deliciously aged air with which this creature of twenty-three referred to her youth--"I was singing at the Opera Comique in Paris, where Carlotta was starring, and I had the misfortune to arouse her jealousy. She is frightfully jealous, and get worse as she gets older. She swore to me that if I ever dared to appear at the Comique again she would have me killed. I laughed. I forgot the affair, but it happens that I never have sung at the Comique since that time. And now that I am not merely to appear at the Comique, but am going to sing 'Carmen' there, her own particular role, Deschamps is furious. I firmly believe she means harm. Twice she has written to me the most formidable threats. It seems strange that I should stand in awe of a woman like Carlotta Deschamps, but so it is. I am half-inclined to throw up the engagement."