Of course there was a final rehearsal at eleven, and Nino put off the hour of the lesson with the contessina to three in the afternoon, by some excuse or other.  He must have felt very much pressed for time, having to give her a lesson on the very day of his coming out; and besides, he knew very well that it might be the last of his days with her, and that a great deal would depend on the way he bore himself at his trial.  He sang badly, or thought he did, at the rehearsal, and grew more and more depressed and grave as the day advanced.  He came out of the little stage door of the Apollo theatre at Tor di Nona, and his eyes fell upon the broad bills and posters announcing the first appearance of “Giovanni Cardegna, the most distinguished pupil of the Maestro Ercole de Pretis, in Donizetti’s opera the ‘Favorita.’” His heart sank at the sight of his own name, and he turned towards the Bridge of Sant’ Angelo to get away from it.  He was the last to leave the theatre, and De Pretis was with him.

At that moment he saw Hedwig von Lira sitting in an open carriage in front of the box office.  De Pretis bowed low; she smiled; and Nino took off his hat, but would not go near her, escaping in the opposite direction.  He thought she looked somewhat surprised, but his only idea was to get away, lest she should call him and put some awkward question.

An hour and a half later he entered her sitting-room.  There she sat, as usual, with her books, awaiting him perhaps for the last time, a fair, girlish figure with gold hair, but oh, so cold!—­it makes me shiver to think of how she used to look.  Possibly there was a dreaminess about her blue eyes that made up for her manner; but how Nino could love her I cannot understand.  It must have been like making love to a pillar of ice.

“I am much indebted to you for allowing me to come at this hour, signorina,” he said, as he bowed.

“Ah, professore, it looks almost as though it were you yourself who were to make your debut” said she, laughing and leaning back in her chair.  “Your name is on every corner in Rome, and I saw you coming out of a side door of the theatre this morning.”  Nino trembled, but reflected that if she had suspected anything she would not have made so light of it.

“The fact is, signorina, my cousin is so nervous that he begged me earnestly to be present at the rehearsal this morning; and as it is the great event of his life, I could not easily refuse him.  I presume you are going to hear him, since I saw your carriage at the theatre.”

“Yes.  At the last minute my father wanted to change our box for one nearer the stage, and so we went ourselves.  The baroness—­you know, the lady who went with us to the Pantheon—­is going with us to-night.”  It was the first time Hedwig had mentioned her, and it was evident that Nino’s intimacy with the baroness had been kept a secret.  How long would it be so?  Mechanically he proceeded with the lesson, thinking