"I do not wonder; but I have not known him so long, you see, and contemplate him differently. I had been telling him, as he requested to know my plans, of the treatment I had received at the opera, and how I had not quite settled whether to come out now or next year as an actress. He answered,—
"'Do neither.'
"I inquired why?
"'You must not accept any engagement for the stage in England, and pray do not hold out to them any idea that you will.'
"Now, what does he mean? Am I to give up my only chance of being able to live in England? For I wish to live here. And am I to act unconscientiously? For my conscience tells me that the pure-hearted should always follow their impulses. Now, I know very few persons; but I am born to be known of many,—at least I suppose so, or why was I gifted with this voice, my only gift?"
"Miss Benette, you cannot suppose the Chevalier desires your voice to be lost. Has he not been informing and interpenetrating himself with it the whole morning? He has a higher range in view for you, be assured, or he had not persuaded you, I am certain, to annul your present privileges. He has the right to will what he pleases."
"And are we all to obey him?"
"Certainly; and only him,—in matters musical. If you knew him as I do, you would feel this."
"But is it like a musician to draw me away from my duty?"
"Not obviously; but there may be no duty here. You do not know how completely, in the case of dramatic, and indeed of all other art, the foundations are out of course."