It might have seemed impossible to one easily stirred, easily wrought upon by a woman's beauty--it would surely have seemed impossible to such a one that any could gaze on a sight like this and harbour a selfish thought; but the old man was perfectly unmoved. "It is always the way," he said peevishly, "always the way with women; now we shall have a scene--tears--entreaties. I shall be called all manner of hard names for giving sensible advice." And he turned his back upon the girl, and stood sullenly, gazing apparently upon one of the painted panels of the wall. For about a minute there was a terrible pause, then the curtains that veiled the _salon_ were drawn forcibly back, and the groom of the chambers, who was a Frenchman, announced suddenly-- "_Monseigneur le Prince._" VIII. THE Prince came forward smiling. The Maestro made a gesture of inexpressible relief. He shuffled off toward the still opened curtain, and, turning as he reached it, he bowed to the ground before his patron and his pupil, and disappeared through the opening as the servant let the curtain drop. We shall not care, I think, to see him again. Faustina looked still more scared and bewildered than before at this sudden change of actors and of parts. She would gladly have left the room but she was incapable of anything of the kind--besides, where should she go? The scene seemed to swim before her eyes, and the lights to flicker. She sank down on her chair again. The Prince had never looked so well. He was flushed with excitement, and the habitual _insouciance_ of his manner had given place to a reality and earnestness of purpose which rendered eloquent his every gesture and look. He was exquisitely dressed in silk, embroidered with flowers. The priceless lace at his wrists and throat accommodated itself, with a delicate fulness, to the soft outline of his dress and figure. His expression was full of kindliness and protection, but of kindliness delicate and refined. The girl's eyes were fascinated in spite of herself. "Have you quarrelled with the Maestro, Tina?" said the Prince. "He seemed in a marvellous hurry to be gone." Faustina made two or three ineffectual attempts to speak before she could find her voice. She burst into tears. "He is cruel! cruel!" she said. "He does not love me. He will not have me any longer. He throws me away." "Poor child!" said the Prince, "you will not be deserted. I am your friend; we are all your friends. The Maestro even will come back to you. He is cross and angry. When he finds how lost he is without you and your lovely voice, he will come back to you; you and he will carry all before you again." "Speak to him, Highness!" cried the girl passionately. "You are kind and good to all--kinder than any one to me. Speak to him! do not let him go without me! He cannot live without his music, and no one surely can know his music so well as I, whom he has taught!"