In another way Christina was equally nice. She was fond of telling Eugene how much she thought of him, how nice she thought he was. "You're so big and smarty," she said to him once, affectionately, pinioning his arms and looking into his eyes. "I like the way you part your hair, too! You're kind o' like an artist ought to be!"
"That's the way to spoil me," he replied. "Let me tell you how nice you are. Want to know how nice you are?"
"Uh-uh," she smiled, shaking her head to mean "no."
"Wait till we get to the mountains. I'll tell you." He sealed her lips with his, holding her until her breath was almost gone.
"Oh," she exclaimed; "you're terrible. You're like steel."
"And you're like a big red rose. Kiss me!"
From Christina he learned all about the musical world and musical personalities. He gained an insight into the different forms of music, operatic, symphonic, instrumental. He learned of the different forms of composition, the terminology, the mystery of the vocal cords, the methods of training. He learned of the jealousies within the profession, and what the best musical authorities thought of such and such composers, or singers. He learned how difficult it was to gain a place in the operatic world, how bitterly singers fought each other, how quick the public was to desert a fading star. Christina took it all so unconcernedly that he almost loved her for her courage. She was so wise and so good natured.
"You have to give up a lot of things to be a good artist," she said to Eugene one day. "You can't have the ordinary life, and art too."
"Just what do you mean, Chrissy?" he asked, petting her hand, for they were alone together.
"Why, you can't get married very well and have children, and you can't do much in a social way. Oh, I know they do get married, but sometimes I think it is a mistake. Most of the singers I know don't do so very well tied down by marriage."