“Don’t be childish! Who’d be worried, when you have such a voice? Madame Viardot will consider herself fortunate to get such a pupil.”
The door of the next room opened and in came the dreaded one. A lively, elegant woman of forty, with features not beautiful but interesting. There was a little introductory conversation which I do not remember, and then I was dragged to the block—I mean the piano.
“Have you brought any music? What will you sing for me?”
“All I can do is scales and exercises.”
“One can judge of your voice by those, no doubt, but not of your talent, not of your degree of ability.”
“Then, please, the duet with the barytone from Lucia.”
“A duet?”
“Yes, madame; so far I have not sung any pieces at all; it only happens that I know this one.”
“Very well.” She found the score and played the introduction.
My throat was utterly choked. I started in a tremble. But after a while my voice grew firmer, and after a few measures it went to my own satisfaction. Mother nodded approvingly. I believed that I had given of my best.