"The Duchess of Ferrara, for instance," said a young sculptor who had overheard the remark.
Gontram frowned, and whispered softly to the young artist:
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Raoul."
Carmen, however, laughed, and carelessly said:
"Let him alone; I knew the story long ago."
To make this little scene understood, we must observe that the young sculptor's words referred to that Duchess of Ferrara whom Titian painted in the primitive costume of Mother Eve, and it stung the young painter to the heart when he heard Carmen confess that she had heard the story before—who could have told it to the nineteen-year-old girl?
"What about the surprise you were going to give your guests?" asked Carmen, after an uncomfortable pause.
"I will keep my word," replied the painter, laughing. "Have you ever heard the name of Jane Zild, mademoiselle?"
"Jane Zild? That wonderful songstress who comes from the north, either Lapland or Finland? What is the matter with her?"