“What is announced in the programme?”

“Lucia,” was the gloomy response.

“If that is all, sir, I ask but seven hours practice and study.  I am familiar with it, but need instruction in the acting of it.”

Her companion eagerly replied that he would engage her for that night at least, and was departing to send some one to instruct her, when she timidly inquired: 

“But my dress, sir-how shall I arrange that matter?”

“O, I’ll see to that!  You prepare yourself in the part-I’ll do the rest,” and he was gone in an instant.

Night came, and also a crowded house.  Presently the people became impatient, and with eagerness called for the commencement of the performance; at the expiration of five minutes whistling, screaming, stamping, etc., the manager made his appearance and announced “that Signora Buanatti was unable to appear, but Signorina Zampieri had kindly offered to take her place!” But the audience did not take it kindly-the lady was unknown to them, and who could say anything about her singing-besides, they had excused the favorite vocalist once, and they were not to be put off in this same way again.  Accordingly, a tremendous hiss arose, in the midst of which the unfortunate manager rattled off the physician’s certificate, letting his voice drop, and flat away towards the end most comically, then hastily departed for the side scenes.

In a few minutes the young debutante appeared.  She was received with a chilling silence, broken only by a few faint claps from some half dozen good-natured persons, in consideration of her youth and beauty.  In defiance of her prepossessing appearance, the audience seemed determined that they would not be cheated or flattered into a single expression of approbation, but the manager observed with rising hope that they forbore to hiss.  Undismayed, and regardless of the reception she met with, the young girl, with perfect composure, began her role.  As she continued, the whole richness and beauty of her voice were brought out, and wholly unable to withstand such wonderful, unexpected melody, the people manifested their delight loudly, and at the conclusion of the opera, Signorina Zampieri was called for loudly.  At the request of the manager, she came forward, and with polite indifference bowed in reply to the applause.  Signora Buonatti was forgotten!  The people were amazed at the nonchalant manner of the young favorite, who actually received a burst of enthusiasm, such as rarely had greeted any singer, with such coolness-who and what was this slender, youthful being, that was neither awed by their sternness, nor delighted at their praises?