Usually she took up her violin with a calm confidence, like a young Amazon taking up her well-strung bow for battle, because the violin must be subdued; it must be made to obey; it must feel the master hand before it will speak.

But to-night the master hand failed Anita, and she played fitfully and sadly and could do nothing as Neroda directed her.
"Shall we give up the rehearsal ?" asked Neroda presently, seeing that Anita was not concentrated and that her bow arm showed strange weakness.
"No," replied Anita, with a new courage in her violet eyes, "Let us rehearse for the whole hour." If Neroda had been puzzled at Anita's inability he was now surprised at her strength.

She stood up to her full height and the bow was firm in her grasp.

Neroda was a hard master, but Anita succeeded in pleasing him.

Even Kettle, who had an artistic rivalry with Neroda, passing the drawing-room door, cried: "Lord, Miss 'Nita, you kin play the fiddle mos' as well as I kin." As Mrs.Fortescue was putting the last touches to her toilette before the long mirror in her own room, Colonel Fortescue came in, dressed to go down-stairs.