CHAPTER XVIII.
THE APPROACHING SHADOW Diana gathered up her songs and slowly dropped them into her music-case, while Baroni stared at her with a puzzled, brooding look in his eyes.
At last he spoke:-- "You are throwing away the great gift God has given you.

First, you will take no more engagements, and now--what is it?
Where is your voice ?" Diana, conscious of having done herself less than justice at the lesson which was just concluded, shook her head.
"I don't know," she said simply.

"I don't seem able to sing now, somehow." Baroni shrugged his shoulders.
"You are fretting," he declared.

"And so the voice suffers." "Fretting?
I don't know that I've anything to fret about"-- vaguely.
"Only I shall be glad when 'Mrs.Fleming's Husband' is actually produced.

Just now"-- with a rather wistful smile--"I don't seem to have a husband to call my own.