"That is exactly what he was," she answered with a vague enthusiasm. "And a great nobleman too! So different from the others. I wish I could describe him to you, but I cannot. He was immensely rich--he looked on me as a pauper. He had the finest houses, the finest judgment in the world. When he wanted anything he got it, no matter what the cost. All dealers knew that, and any one who had 'the best' to sell knew that in Lord Clarenceux he would find a purchaser. He carried things with a high hand. I never knew another man so determined, or one who could be more stern or more exquisitely kind. He knew every sort of society, and yet he had never married. He fell in love with me, and offered me his hand. I declined--I was afraid of him. He said he would shoot himself. And he would have done it; so I accepted. I should have ended by loving him. For he wished me to love him, and he always had his way. He was a man, and he held the same view of my world that I myself hold. Mr. Foster, you must think I'm in a very chattering mood." I protested with a gesture. "Lord Clarenceux died. And I am alone. I was terribly lonely after his death. I missed his jealousy." "He was jealous?" "He was the most jealous man, I think, who ever lived. His jealousy escorted me everywhere like a guard of soldiers. Yet I liked him even for that. He was genuine; so sincere, so masterful with it. In all matters his methods were drastic. If he had been alive I should not be tormented by the absurd fears which I now allow to get the better of me." "Fears! About what?" "To be frank, about my debut at the Opera Comique. I can imagine," she smiled, "how he would have dealt with that situation." "You are afraid of something?" "Yes." "What is it?" "I don't know. I merely fear.... There is Carlotta Deschamps." "Miss Rosa, a few minutes ago you called me your friend." My voice was emotional; I felt it. "I did, because you are. I have no claim on you, but you have been very good to me." "You have the best claim on me. Will you rely on me?" We looked at each other. "I will," she said. I stood before her, and she took my hand. "You say you fear. I hope your fears are groundless--candidly, I can't see how they can be otherwise. But suppose anything should happen. Well, I shall be at your service." At that moment some one knocked and entered. It was Yvette. She avoided my glance. "Madame will take her egg-and-milk before going to rehearsal?" "Yes, Yvette. Bring it to me here, please." "You have a rehearsal to-day?" I asked. "I hope I'm not detaining you." "Not at all. The call is for three o'clock. This is the second one, and they fixed the hour to suit me. It is really my first rehearsal, because at the previous one I was too hoarse to sing a note." I rose to go. "Wouldn't you like to come with me to the theatre?" she said with an adorable accent of invitation. My good fortune staggered me. After she had taken her egg-and-milk we set out. CHAPTER XII