"What is announced in the programme?"
"Lucia," was the gloomy response.
"If that is all, sir, I ask but seven hours practice and study. I am familiar with it, but need instruction in the acting of it."
Her companion eagerly replied that he would engage her for that night at least, and was departing to send some one to instruct her, when she timidly inquired:
"But my dress, sir-how shall I arrange that matter?"
"O, I'll see to that! You prepare yourself in the part-I'll do the rest," and he was gone in an instant.
Night came, and also a crowded house. Presently the people became impatient, and with eagerness called for the commencement of the performance; at the expiration of five minutes whistling, screaming, stamping, etc., the manager made his appearance and announced "that Signora Buanatti was unable to appear, but Signorina Zampieri had kindly offered to take her place!" But the audience did not take it kindly-the lady was unknown to them, and who could say anything about her singing-besides, they had excused the favorite vocalist once, and they were not to be put off in this same way again. Accordingly, a tremendous hiss arose, in the midst of which the unfortunate manager rattled off the physician's certificate, letting his voice drop, and flat away towards the end most comically, then hastily departed for the side scenes.
In a few minutes the young debutante appeared. She was received with a chilling silence, broken only by a few faint claps from some half dozen good-natured persons, in consideration of her youth and beauty. In defiance of her prepossessing appearance, the audience seemed determined that they would not be cheated or flattered into a single expression of approbation, but the manager observed with rising hope that they forbore to hiss. Undismayed, and regardless of the reception she met with, the young girl, with perfect composure, began her role. As she continued, the whole richness and beauty of her voice were brought out, and wholly unable to withstand such wonderful, unexpected melody, the people manifested their delight loudly, and at the conclusion of the opera, Signorina Zampieri was called for loudly. At the request of the manager, she came forward, and with polite indifference bowed in reply to the applause. Signora Buonatti was forgotten! The people were amazed at the nonchalant manner of the young favorite, who actually received a burst of enthusiasm, such as rarely had greeted any singer, with such coolness-who and what was this slender, youthful being, that was neither awed by their sternness, nor delighted at their praises?
The selfish, scheming Cartillos at once perceived he had made a fortunate speculation, and hastened to engage his prize for a year at one third her real value, as the next day proved when notes came flocking in from all directions, urging her to name her own price. With a feeling of deep indignation Teresa Zampieri determined after her engagement with Cartillos expired, that he should never acquire another farthing by her. She speedily became the pet of the people, yet notwithstanding her surprising good fortune, nothing had the power to charm her out of the subdued manner so unnatural in one so young, or throw a lightsome sparkle into those large, dark, melancholy eyes, while almost the first exclamation made by every one on hearing her sing, was, "Her voice sounds like a fountain of tears!" The only thing that absorbed and rendered her forgetful of the present, was her music, and when in the opera, her whole being seemed merged into the character she was representing. Her large, sad eyes grew still larger and sadder, and she seemed like one in a dream-it was with her a passion, an existence.
But she was subject to many annoyances from Cartillos, who constantly took advantage of her ignorance concerning money matters, which Florian Geraldi, the handsome tenor of the troupe, plainly perceived and with burning indignation. He would have protected her and prevented these impositions, but they were both young, and he feared his motives might be misunderstood, and so he continued from day to day, each showing him plainer that his heart was given to the beautiful songstress, whose course had been so like a comet, rising from darkness, and no one knew whither, for all felt instinctively that a mystery hung over the young girl.-At last some fresh act of injustice on the part of Cartillos thoroughly aroused Geraldi, who, at the risk of losing his situation, determined to tell Teresa how much she was imposed upon. The mournful tone and manner with which she replied—"Alas, I am aware I have no friends to protect me," quite startled her companion out of his composure. He had resolved never to speak of his affection till he had more reason for hope than he then possessed, but at these words his resolution was forgotten, and rapidly, earnestly, he detailed his past wishes and present hopes, and urged her to reply. For an instant she was silent, but then she addressed him in firm, sad, yet kind tones.