I pondered. "I will write--no, that would be hardly proper. Meet me in the Royal Academy, Room Six, at the 'Portrait of a Gentleman,' about noon to-morrow week." "A week is a long time!" he sighed. I arched my eyebrows. "A week a long time for such a task!" I exclaimed. Next day I called at the house of the Voice. A gorgeous creature in plush opened the door. "I want to see--to see--gracious! I've forgotten his name," I said in patent chagrin. I clucked my tongue, puckered my lips, tapped the step with my parasol, then smiled pitifully at the creature in plush. He turned out to be only human, for a responsive sympathetic smile flickered across his pompous face. "You know--the singer," I said, as if with a sudden inspiration. "Oh. Lord Arthur!" he said. "Yes, of course," I cried, with a little trill of laughter. "How stupid of me! Please tell him I want to see him on an important matter." "He--he's very busy, I'm afraid, miss." "Oh, but he'll see me," I said confidently. "Yes, miss; who shall I say, miss?" "The Princess." He made a startled obeisance, and ushered me into a little room on the right of the hall. In a few moments he returned and said--"His lordship will be down in a second, your highness." Sixty minutes seemed to go to that second, so racked was I with curiosity. At last I heard a step outside and a hand on the door, and at that moment a horrible thought flashed into my mind. What certainty was there my singer was a hunchback? Suppose his affliction were something more loathly. What if he had a monstrous wen! For the instant after his entry I was afraid to look up. When I did, I saw a short, dark-haired young man, with proper limbs and refined features. But his face wore a blank expression, and I wondered why I had not divined before that my musician was blind! He bowed and advanced towards me. He came straight in my direction so that I saw he _could_ see. The blank expression gave place to one of inquiry. "I have ventured to call upon your lordship in reference to a Charity Concert," I said sweetly; "I am one of your neighbors, living just across the square, and as the good work is to be done in this district, I dared to hope that I could persuade you to take part in it." I happened to catch sight of my face in the glass of a chiffonier as I spoke, and it was as pure and candid and beautiful as the face of one of Guido's angels. When I ceased, I looked up at Lord Arthur's. It was spasmodically agitated, the mouth was working wildly. A nervous dread seized me. After what seemed an endless interval, he uttered an explosive "Put!" following it up by "f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-or two g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g----" "It is very kind of you," I interrupted mercifully. "But I did not propose to ask you for a subscription. I wanted to enlist your services as a performer. But I fear I have made a mistake. I understood you sang." Inwardly I was furious with the stupid creature in plush for having misled me into such an unpleasant situation.