Early Monday morning I received the following note:—
"Herr Max Alvary supposed when he consented to sing for Madame Pryor that she would arrange a programme in accordance with his social and artistic position.
"Madame Pryor has not done this. Herr Alvary will not sing for Madame Pryor."
Before I recovered my senses after reading this astounding missive, I received the following:—
"Madam; When Mrs. Shaw consented to whistle for you, she forgot she was under contract with Mr. Pond. She cannot appear on any occasion outside Mr. Pond's series of entertainments."
Light broke upon my clouded vision. This—the siffleuse, was the offending one! I wrote at once to Herr Alvary that the number to which he had objected was withdrawn. I told the telegraph messenger to wait for an answer. He returned after an absence of several hours, and reported: "I asked the gentleman for an answer, and he slammed the door in my face. Then I waited outside till dinner-time!"
Tuesday, Wednesday, passed. I forbore to annoy Mr. Stanton. It was not my will to accept anything against another's will. Herr Alvary might go to—France for me! I should certainly not humble myself to him. In the meantime, Dr. Doremus tried again and again in vain. Thursday! No Alvary, no whistler! A pretty way indeed to treat a confiding public buying tickets to hear both of them!
Finally I broke down. I wrote to the naughty boy, and wrote to his heart. I said in conclusion, "While you hesitate, my countrymen are dying." He had a heart and I found it. I received a prompt answer:—
"Madame Pryor:—
"I will sing for you Friday, and I will sing as often as the audience wishes. I am sorry for the sorrow I gave you, but—Madame Pryor, you know the human voice was never meant for whistling!