Baroni hugged himself as he realised what a _furore_ in the musical world this voice would create when at last he allowed the silence to be broken.

Already there were whispers flying about of the wonderful contralto he was training, of whom it was rumoured that she would have the whole world at her feet from the moment that Baroni produced her.
The old _maestro_ had his plans all cut and dried.

Early in June, just when the season should be in full swing, there was to be a concert--a recital with only Kirolski, the Polish violinist, and Madame Berthe Louvigny, the famous French pianist, to assist.

Those two names alone would inevitably draw a big crowd of all the musical people who mattered, and Diana's golden voice would do the rest.
This was to be the solitary concert for the season, but, to whet the appetite of society, Diana was also to appear at a single big reception--"Baroni won't look at anything less than a ducal house with Royalty present," as Jerry banteringly asserted--and then, while the world was still agape with interest and excitement, the singer was to be whisked away to Crailing for three months' holiday, and to accept no more engagements until the winter.

By that time, Baroni anticipated, people would be feverishly impatient for her reappearance, and the winter campaign would resolve itself into one long trail of glory.
Diana had been better able latterly to devote herself to her work, as Errington had been out of England for a time.