had passed a trying day. Up very early . . . she had gone over her vocal technique, then prepared breakfast for her six brothers and sisters. At nine, she had been at her desk . . . At noon, she had snatched a bit of lunch and hurried to the roof of the large business block, where she served as tennis and fencing instructor to the employees. . . . Then for an hour before dinner, she gave a vocal lesson to a group of music teachers. . . . At the appointed hour she had donned her choral robes and was in her seat. . . . Under her choral gown, she wore a simple office dress — all she had. [After Roma was summoned by Herbert to take the role, someone was found who would lend her evening dress, and the exchange was made. . . . At the close of the remarkable performance, Victor Herbert took her hand and drew her up on the block beside him. . . . The audience burst into a new round of acclaim.