"You do not understand, my young friend. England is a very funny place. A lot is done here for love. Mrs. Raby occupies a unique position. Supposing you were unknown, to play at one of her evenings would secure you a twenty-guinea engagement in South Kensington. Patti, Lucca, Nielson have sung there for friendship. Sarasate has played there for friendship. My friend, if you are wise, you will be glad that I have procured you an invitation." Nello made no further objection. Mosenstein knew the ropes as well as anybody. If he urged him to go to the house in Kensington Gore and play for nothing he had a wise motive. Mrs. Raby was evidently a power in the musical world. The drawing-rooms were crowded, mostly with musical people. But there were a few others from another world; and amongst these, Nello presently discovered his patroness, Lady Glendover, who came here out of sheer love of music. The Countess had to pay five hundred or more for what Mrs. Raby got for nothing. She greeted Nello kindly and invited him to sit beside her. "Do you know many people here?" she asked, as she made way for him on the sofa. "So far as I can see, nobody but yourself, Madame." "Oh, then, we will take compassion on each other and keep each other company--at least till you have to play. I suppose you are on the programme." "I believe so. My agent, Mosenstein, is arranging matters, and he will tell me when I am wanted." "Very well; until that moment arrives we can sit still and chat. I don't know very many people either: just a few artists who have appeared at my house. The Princess Zouroff sometimes comes, but she is not here to-night. Some evenings, of course very late, it is as good as one of Paul Degraux's concerts, when all the great stars have come on. About one o'clock in the morning they begin to warble and outplay each other. Of course you know Mrs. Raby married the greatest pianist of his day. They perform for her out of camaraderie." They talked for a little time, when the Countess suddenly exclaimed: "Ah, there is somebody from my own world, the Baron Salmoros. There is such, a crush, he does not see me. Do you know him?" Nello's breath came quickly. "No, Madame, but at the moment he is the one man in the world that I particularly want to know." Lady Glendover looked at him sharply, but she was too polite to inquire the cause of his sudden agitation. "I will introduce you to him with pleasure; but it is no use running after him in this crowd, we shall never catch him. I know his methods, he comes here very often, he is a great _amateur_. He will exchange greetings with the many artists he knows, making a tour of the rooms, and then he will see me and come to a halt in front of us." Lady Glendover's prognostication of the Baron's movements was a correct one. After what seemed to Nello, watching his slow progress round the room, an interminable period, Salmoros stopped before them and bowed over the Countess's outstretched hand.