"I think you are a very good girl, and you shall stay with me always."
The girl was almost beside herself with joy.
"We will never part. Do you consent, Anielka?"
"Do not call me Anielka. Give me instead some Italian name."
"Well, then, be Giovanna. The dearest friend I ever had but whom I have lost—was named Giovanna," said the prima donna.
"Then, I will be another Giovanna to you."
Teresina then said, "I hesitated to receive you at first, for your sake as well as mine; it you are safe now. I learn that your master and mistress, after searching vainly for you, have returned to Poland."
From this time Anielka commenced an entirely new life. She took lessons in singing every day from the Signora. and got an engagement to appear in inferior characters at the theater. She had now her own income, and her own servant—she, who till then had been obliged to serve herself. She acquired the Italian language rapidly, and soon passed for a native of the country.
So passed three years. New and varied impressions failed, however, to blot out the old ones. Anielka arrived at great perfection in her singing, and even began to surpass the prima donna, who was losing her voice from weakness of the chest. This sad discovery changed the cheerful temper of Teresina. She ceased to sing in public; for she could not endure to excite pity, where she had formerly commanded admiration.
She determined to retire. "You," she said to Anielka, "shall now assert your claim to the first rank in the vocal art. You will maintain it. You surpass me. Often, on hearing you sing, I have scarcely been able to stifle a feeling of jealousy."