“Did you fall in love with him?” inquired Alberta.
“Not as I know of! He may have had ‘a very beautiful spirit,’ as some of his admirers say; but, if so, it was clothed with a very unattractive person. Next day pap brought me here to school, and I have been here ever since, except when I have gone home for the holidays. Now, sisteren, I have given in my experience at this love feast for the benefit of Sister Erminie Rosenthal; and I hope she will profit by it. And now, I think, that is all.”
Alberta and Erminie laughed, but Britomarte looked very grave as she said:
“No, Elfrida, that is not all. I have a sequel to your story, but I will not tell it to you now. I will tell you this, however: The old glutton who revolted your taste at the breakfast was Signior Adriano di Bercelloni, the elder, and the father of Signior Adriano di Bercelloni, the younger, whom you saw play Edgar Ravenswood.”
As Britomarte spoke, Elfie gazed at her with open eyes and mouth in silent amazement.
“They have the same name, and they bear a strong personal resemblance to each other, modified by the difference of age and temperament; but they never play the same parts. How could you imagine, my dear, that there could be any arts of the toilet, or effect of the stage, that could transfigure that coarse old creature into the hero of an opera?”
“I don’t know. I thought toilet arts, and stage effects, were almost miraculous. But what astounds me is the cunning of the gay old deceiver, my pap! Now, I wonder if he didn’t see my infatuation from the beginning! I wonder if he didn’t show me the old one, and let me deceive myself, on purpose?”
“Of course, he did,” opined Alberta.
“But how came you to know anything about them—so much about them, I may say, Britty, dear?” Elfie inquired.
“I said I had a sequel to your story; but I cannot tell it now,” replied Britomarte, very gravely. Then, after a thoughtful pause, she added: “I think it wrong—oh! very wrong—in parents and guardians to take young, inexperienced, impressible girls to such places. If they love music, let them have as many concerts as they please, but no operas, and no plays—except, perhaps, a few of Shakespeare’s best historical plays.”