"Certainly he did, if remember is the right word, for his knowledge of you was not all in the past tense. He has followed you closely, and he knows just what you have done. Mr. Thayer," she added abruptly; "why have you never sung in opera?"
"Why should I?"
"Because he said that there was your especial talent, only he called it by a stronger name. He jeers at the work you are doing."
"I am sorry. I thought it was good work."
"So it is, as far as it goes. But the other goes farther."
"Perhaps," he assented. "But do you think it is as—as—"
"Good form?" she queried, laughing. "Yes, if you choose to have it so. It depends something upon the individual. With your training and traditions, you would scarcely elect to sing comic opera in English."
"Heaven forbid!" he said hastily. "But there are grades and grades, even of the other. Not many mortals reach the top round of the ladder."
"No; and, even if they did, they would be a good deal in your way, for the space up there is limited. It will be merely a question of your own will whether or not you occupy a part of it."