Madame replied, "I mentioned to him how the death of the poor little thing afflicted you."
Rosa made no response, but occupied herself with selecting some pieces of music connected with the performance at the opera.
The Signor, as he went out with the music, said, "Do you suppose she didn't want him to know about the bambino?"
"Perhaps she is afraid he will think her heartless for leaving it," replied Madame. "But I will tell her I took all the blame on myself. If she is so anxious about his good opinion, it shows which way the wind blows."
The Señorita Rosita Campaneo and her attendants had flitted, no one knew whither, before the public were informed that her engagement was not to be renewed. Rumor added that she was soon to be married to a rich American, who had withdrawn her from the stage.
"Too much to be monopolized by one man," said Mr. Green to Mr.
Fitzgerald. "Such a glorious creature belongs to the world."
"Who is the happy man?" inquired Mrs. Fitzgerald.
"They say it is King, that pale-faced Puritan from Boston," rejoined her husband. "I should have given her credit for better taste."
In private, he made all possible inquiries; but merely succeeded in tracing them to a vessel at Civita Vecchia, bound to Marseilles.
To the public, the fascinating prima donna, who had rushed up from the horizon like a brilliant rocket, and disappeared as suddenly, was only a nine-days wonder. Though for some time after, when opera-goers heard any other cantatrice much lauded, they would say: "Ah, you should have heard the Campaneo! Such a voice! She rose to the highest D as easily as she breathed. And such glorious eyes!"