The curtain rose, but Mr. Nivernois still went on with his harangue. There presently occurred in the opera a passage of extraordinary beauty, and Mrs. Althorpe began to be annoyed by the unceasing voice behind her. Her impatience presently got the better of her courtesy.
“Tell Mr. Thingembob there to hush,” said she to Mr. Temple.
But the discourse still continued, and above the rapid din of words could be occasionally heard, “Napoleon,” “genius,” and “We have but one life to live.”
Mr. Nivernois was silent. Mrs. Althorpe relented of her severity, and began to fear that the unfortunate man might pine away in despair under the infliction of her rebuke. She turned round again with one of her most gracious smiles, and begged the favor of his company at supper after the opera.
The passage in the play struck most of the company in the box as new; they did not remember to have heard it at the previous representations of the opera. The house seemed to agree with them as to its beauty. It was called for a second and even a third time, and the applause was loud and long.
“What do you think of that?” said Mrs. Althorpe to Nivernois.
“Read the prophecies of Isaiah to this people,” he replied; “if they applaud that fittingly, I should think their praise of this worth something.”
In a few moments, he left the box. Presently the leader of the orchestra came in, between the acts.
“He has just gone. But where did you get that magnificent passage you just played? It surely does not belong to the play.”
“You are indebted to Mr. Nivernois for it. He gave me, the other day, a mass of musical manuscripts of his own composition. I picked this out of them, not as being by any means the best, but the most suited for insertion in this play. He has more genius than all the men I have ever seen put together; but he has abandoned composition, because he says it is impossible to beat Bellini. The violin that I played with to-night was presented to him by Paganini, as a mark of his admiration; he gave it to me.”
“I wonder that he would part with such a gift,” said Miss Stanhope.
“I believe that he gave it to me,” said the other, “lest he should seem to himself to value the tribute of any man.”
“What a singular person he must be!” said Miss Stanhope, who had been much struck with his appearance, and greatly interested by the oddness and novelty of his character.