“But––I had thought of asking you to let me train you––but––I––I dare not undertake to handle such a voice as yours. May I––may I send Maitre Rossanni to you, the great Italian? Will you sing for him?”
“Oh, yes,” returned the girl; “I’ll sing for anybody. The gift isn’t mine, you know. It is for all. I’m only the channel.”
When the professor had taken his reluctant departure, the Beaubien returned and handed Carmen a letter. With a cry of joy the girl seized it and tore it open. It was from Colombia, the second one that her beloved Rosendo had succeeded in getting down the river to the distant coast. It had been written three months prior, and it bore many stains and evidences of the vicissitudes through which it had emerged. Yes, Rosendo and his family were well, though still at Maria Rosa, far up the Boque, with Don Nicolás. The war raged below them, but they were safe.
“And not a word from Padre Josè, or about him,” murmured the girl, sinking into a chair and clasping the soiled letter to her breast.
Father Waite thought of the little newsboy of Cartagena, and his possible share in the cause of Josè’s silence. But he made no comment.
CHAPTER 4
Carmen’s first serious test of her knowledge of English composition was made early in the semester, in an essay on town life in Colombia; and so meritorious did her instructor consider it that he advised her to send it to a prominent literary magazine. The result was that the essay was accepted, and a request made for further contributions.
The girl bubbled with new-found happiness. Then she wrote another, and still another article on the life and customs 40 of her people. Both were given publication; and with the money which she received for them she bought a silk dress for Jude, much to that adoring woman’s surprise and vehement protest. Carmen might have saved the money toward a piano––but, no; that would have been thinking of herself, and was inadmissible. Nor did the Beaubien offer any objection. “Indeed,” commented that fond shepherd of this lone lamb, “she would have poured the money out into somebody’s open hand anyway, and it might as well be Jude’s.”