Then I began to sing again, and repeated a hundred times in succession the scattered fragments I had remembered. As I sang on, the ear-splitting harshness of my voice wore off, and I felt that it became more flexible and tractable every moment. I felt no fatigue, the more I practised, the easier my respiration seemed. Then I ventured to try some of the operatic arias and romanzas which I had heard the signora sing in the past two years. In those two years I had worked hard and learned a great deal without suspecting it. Method had found its way into my head, by virtue and by instinct, and musical feeling into my heart by intuition and sympathy. I have very great respect for study, but I must admit that no singer ever studied less than myself. I was blessed with a marvellous readiness and memory. If I had once heard a passage, I could repeat it instantly and accurately. I tried that experiment that very day, and succeeded in singing from beginning to end the most difficult pieces in Signora Aldini's repertory. The approach of night warned me to allow my excitement to subside. Then for the first time I realized that I had absented myself from my duties for a whole day, and I returned to the palace, embarrassed and repenting bitterly of my fault. It was the first of that sort I had committed, and I dreaded nothing so much as a rebuke from the signora, however mild it might be. She was at supper, and I crept timidly behind her chair. I never waited on her at table, for I had retained the pride of a true Chioggian, and had surrendered none of the exemptions attached to my privileged post. But, seeking to repair my fault by an act of humility, I took from Salomé's hands the porcelain dish she was about to offer her, and put out my hand awkwardly enough. Signora Aldini pretended at first not to notice, and allowed me to serve her thus for several minutes; then, as she stealthily looked up and met my piteous glance, she suddenly burst out laughing, and threw herself back in her chair. "Your ladyship is spoiling him," said the stern Salomé, repressing an imperceptible desire to share her mistress's merriment. "Why should I scold him?" replied the signora. "He frightened himself this morning, and ran away to punish himself, poor boy! I will bet that he has eaten nothing to-day. Go to your supper, Nellino. I forgive you on condition that you will sing no more." This kindly sarcasm seemed very bitter to me. It was the first one I had ever noticed; for, despite all the opportunities offered for the development of my vanity, that was a sentiment with which I was not as yet acquainted. But pride awoke in me with power, and by making sport of my voice, she seemed to deny my heart and to attack my very life.