Thanks to a sudden outbreak of yellow fever in the South, Marinski's troupe left America earlier than had been agreed upon.
With salary somewhat diminished by this circumstance, a bundle of bombastic critiques, and some very pretty ornaments from Tiffany's in New York for Annette, Gesa went on board the "Arcadia," in which Marinski's troupe were to sail for old Europe. How he rejoiced for his "little one!" She had looked so badly when he left Brussels, was so inconsolable at parting. He resolved to give her a surprise by his sudden return. What great eyes she would make! Sometimes at night he started from sleep--a cry of joy and her name on his lips.
The whole troupe knew why he was hurrying home. He never grew weary of telling about Annette. About Annette and de Sterny. He was much beloved by all his traveling companions, and they all felt a lively interest in Annette; but of de Sterny they would not hear a word; and an old basso, who had taken Gesa especially to his heart, said warningly--
"Take care! he will play you a trick--he is a villain, monsieur!"
Gesa took the caution very ill, and starting up rebuked the basso severely.
The basso smiled to himself.
Among the female forces of the troupe was a certain Guiseppina D----. Pale, with rich red hair that when she uncoiled it reached to her heels, her enormous black eyes, short nose, and large mouth lent her some likeness to a death's head. Yet, she was not without a certain charm, especially in her smile, and she smiled constantly, as people do whom nothing can any longer rejoice. To her Gesa talked oftenest about his beloved. She listened to him most kindly and sometimes she wept. She was the soprano of the troupe, and lived in the bitterest enmity with the Alto, who was married to the Tenor, immensely jealous, and very proud of her own virtue.
In Paris, when the troupe broke up, the Guiseppina at parting put both arms around Gesa's neck and kissed him. This the virtuous Alto certainly would not have done. But the Guiseppina whispered at the same time,
"The kiss is for thee, with my good wishes, and this"--she gave him a little gold cross--"this is for the bride, with my mother's blessing that clings to it yet. It belonged to my First Communion, and is the only one of my possessions which is worthy a bride of yours."
They all promised to come to his wedding, and at last he had bidden them farewell, and had left Paris for Brussels.