'Ah!' he ejaculated. 'I understand. I am at your service.' 'What is it?' asked Margaret, blushing a little and turning from one to
the other.
'Logotheti knows everybody,' answered Madame Bonanni. 'He is rich,
immensely rich, fabulously rich, my dear. He is in the "high finance,"
in fact. It is disgusting, how rich he is, but it is sometimes useful.
He wants a theatre, a newspaper; he buys it and does what he likes with
it. It makes no difference to him, for he always sells it again for
more than he gave for it, and besides, it amuses him. You would not
think it, but Logotheti is often dreadfully bored.' 'Very often,' assented the Greek, 'but never when I am with you.' 'Ah, bah! You say that! But why should I care? You always do what I
want.' 'Invariably.' 'And out of pure friendship, too.' 'The purest!' Logotheti uttered the two words with profound conviction.
'I never could induce this creature to make love to me,' cried Madame
Bonanni, turning to Margaret with a laugh. 'It is incredible! And yet I
love him--almost as well as plover's eggs! It is true that if he made
love to me, I should have him turned out of the house. But that makes
no difference. It is one of the disappointments of my life that he
doesn't!' 'What I admire next to your genius, is your logic, dear lady,' said
Logotheti.
'Precisely. Now before you have your coffee you will give me your word
of honour that Miss Donne shall have a triumph and an ovation at her
début, and an engagement to sing next season at the Opéra.' 'Really----' Margaret tried to protest.
'You know nothing about business,' interrupted Madame Bonanni. 'You are
nothing but a child! These things are done in this way. Logotheti, give
me your word of honour.' 'Are you sure of the voice?' asked the Greek quietly.
'As sure as I am of my own.' 'Very well. I give you my word. It is done.' 'Good. I hate you, Logotheti, because you are so cautious, but you
always do what you promise. You may have your coffee now! What name are
you going to take, my dear?' she asked, turning to Margaret, who felt
very uncomfortable. 'The name is very important, you know, even when
one has your genius.' 'My genius!' exclaimed the young girl in confusion.
'I know what I am talking about,' answered Madame Bonanni in a
matter-of-fact tone. 'You will get up on the morning of your début as
little Miss Donne, nobody! You will go to bed as the great new soprano,
famous! That is what you will do. Now don't talk, but let me give you a
name, and we will drink your health to it in a drop of that old white
Chartreuse. You like that old white Chartreuse, Logotheti. You shall
have none till you have found a name for Miss Donne.' 'May I not keep my own?' Margaret asked timidly.