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Dream there wasn't a girl in the country could keep from dancing； and
‘Rosalie； the Prairie Flower；' brought them on their knees to me every
time；'' then after a pause； ‘‘I don't believe people fiddle as well nowadays
as they did in the good old times；'' and he actually sighed in remembrance。
Mildred smiled and whispered to Diotti。 He took his violin from the
case and began playing。 It seemed to her as if from above showers of
silvery merriment were falling to earth。 The old man watched intently； and
as the player changed from joy to pity； from love back to happiness；
Sanders never withdrew his gaze。 His bead…like eyes followed the artist；
he saw each individual finger rise and fall； and the bow bound over the
finger…board； always avoiding； never coming in contact with the middle
string。 Suddenly the old man beat a tattoo on his cranium and closed his
eyes； apparently deep in thought。
As Diotti ceased playing； Sanders applauded vociferously； and moving
toward the violinist； said： ‘‘Magnificent！ I never have heard better playing！
What is the make of your violin？''
Diotti； startled at this question； hurriedly put the instrument in its case；
‘‘Oh； it is a famous make；'' he drawled。
‘‘Will you let me examine it？'' said the elder； placing his hand on the
case。
‘‘I never allow any one to touch my violin；'' replied Diotti； closing the
cover quickly。
‘‘Why； is there a magic charm about it； that you fear other hands may
discover？'' queried the old man。
‘‘I prefer that no one handle it；'' said the virtuoso commandingly。
‘‘Very well；'' sighed the old man resignedly； ‘‘there are violins and
violins； and no doubt yours comes within that category；'' this half
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sneeringly。
‘‘Uncle；'' interposed Mildred tactfully； ‘‘you must not be so persistent。
Signor Diotti prizes his violin highly and will not allow any one to play
upon it but himself；'' and the look of relief on Diotti's face amply repaid
her。
Mr。 Wallace came in at that moment； and with perfunctory interest in
his guest； invited him to examine the splendid collection of revolutionary
relics in his study。
‘‘I value them highly；'' said the banker； ‘‘both for patriotic and
ancestral reasons。 The Wallaces fought and died for their country； and
helped to make this land what it is。''
The father and the violinist went to the study； leaving the daughter and
old Sanders in the drawing…room。 The old man； seating himself in a large
armchair； said： ‘‘Mildred； my dear； I do not wonder at the enormous
success of this Diotti。''
‘‘He is a wonderful artist；'' replied Mildred； ‘‘critics and public alike
place him among the greatest of his profession。''
‘‘He is a good…looking young fellow； too；'' said the old man。
‘‘I think he is the handsomest man I ever have seen；'' replied the girl。
‘‘Where does he come from？'' continued Sanders。
‘‘St。 Casciano； a small town in Tuscany。''
‘‘Has he a family？''
‘‘Only a sister； whom he loves dearly；'' good…naturedly answered the
girl。
‘‘And no one else？'' continued the seemingly garrulous old man。
‘‘None that I have heard him speak of。 No； certainly not；'' rather
impetuously replied Mildred。
‘‘How old is he？'' continued the old man。
‘‘Twenty…eight next month； why do you wish to know？'' she
quizzically asked。
‘‘Simply idle curiosity；'' old Sanders carelessly replied。 ‘‘I wonder if
he is in love with any one in Tuscany？''
‘‘Of course not； how could he be？'' quickly rejoined the girl。
‘‘And why not？'' added old Sanders。
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‘‘Why？ Because； becausehe is in love with some one in America。''
‘‘Ah； with you； I see；'' said the old man； as if it were the greatest
discovery of his life； ‘‘are you sure he has not some beautiful sweetheart
in Tuscany as well as here？''
‘‘What a foolish question；'' she replied。 ‘‘Men like Angelo Diotti do
not fall in love as soldiers fall in line。 Love to a man of his nobility is too
serious to be treated so lightly。''
‘‘Very true； and that's what has excited my curiosity！'' whereupon the
old man smoked away in silence。
‘‘Excited your curiosity！'' said Mildred。 ‘‘What do you mean？''
‘‘It may be something； it may be nothing； but my speculative instinct
has been aroused by a strange peculiarity in his playing。''
‘‘His playing is wonderful！'' replied Mildred proudly。
‘‘Aye； more than wonderful！ I watched him intently；'' said the old man；
‘‘I noted with what marvelous facility he went from one string to the other。
But however rapid； however difficult the composition； he steadily avoided
one string； in fact； that string remained untouched during the entire hour
he played for us。''
‘‘Perhaps the composition did not call for its use；'' suggested Mildred；
unconscious of any other meaning in the old man's observation； save
praise for her lover。
‘‘Perhaps so； but the oddity impressed me； it was a new string to me。 I
have never seen one like it on a violin before。''
‘‘That can scarcely be； for I do not remember of Signor Diotti telling
me there was anything unusual about his violin。''
‘‘I am sure it has a fifth string。''
‘‘And I am equally sure the string can be of no importance or Angelo
would have told me of it；'' Mildred quickly rejoined。
‘‘I recall a strange story of Paganini；'' continued the old man；
apparently not noticing her interruption； ‘‘he became infatuated with a
lady of high rank； who was insensible of the admiration he had for her
beauty。
‘‘He composed a love scene for two strings； the ‘E' and ‘G；' the first
was to personate the lady； the second himself。 It commenced with a
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species of dialogue； intending to represent her indifference and his passion；
now sportive； now sad； laughter on her part and tears from him； ending in
an apotheosis of loving reconciliation。 It affected the lady to that degree
that ever after she loved the violinist。''
‘‘And no doubt they were happy？'' Mildred suggested smilingly。