The morning was fine in the Daaé house. Christine was curled up in a large leather armchair, overlooking the garden, reading a novel and Monsieur Daaé was reading through the daily post in his study.
"Christine! Christine!" He called out as he burst into the living room.
"What is it, Papa?" Christine asked, slightly worried about how tongue tied he appeared.
"Christine! I have received the most wonderful letter, from Paris!" The old man huffed out, in a rush. Christine couldn't possibly conceive what correspondence her father could have received from Paris.

"Sit, Papa. Tell me about this letter. Who is it from?" Monsieur Daaé nodded quickly and perched himself in the chair next to Christine.
"My dear, the letter is from Monsieur Giry." Christine looked at her father, thinking he might burst from excitement, with a puzzled look plastered onto her face.
"Who, Papa?" Monsieur Daaé looked at his daughter in a mix of disgust and shock.
"Monsieur Erik Giry, Christine. The man who has written the operas that everyone loves so much!" Christine now understood why her father was so excited about his letter. Erik Giry was the upcoming new opera writer in Paris and he was renowned for being difficult to communicate with.

Christine's response must have not satisfied her father, as he stomped off in a huff. Christine ran after him, wanting to ask him more about this elusive letter.
"Papa, please wait. Is this the invisible man that everyone speaks of?" She called after her father. He stopped and turned to face her.
"Why yes, of course, Christine. The man who wrote so many of the songs that I have taught you." Christine remembered a small selection of the songs that this man had written. She enjoyed the melodies, yet the words fell a little flat for her tastes.
"But Papa, why would Monsieur Giry be writing to you?" She asked her father, both confused and excited. He motioned for Christine to enter the study.

Monsieur Daaé sat his daughter down in the wooden chair in front of the desk he often sat at and pointed down to his music.
"For this, Christine. Monsieur Giry is visiting the area and has agreed, after my constant requests, to come and listen to some of my music." Christine watched as her father's eyes gleamed with hope and excitement. She turned to smile up at him and then looked backed down to the sheets of scores.
"Papa, this is wonderful. One of the best composers in Paris, coming to view your work! I am sure he will be astounded." Christine assured her father, wanting to boost his confidence.
"I wouldn't quite say that, child." He chuckled, looking down at his daughter. "Go now, I must prepare." He patted her hair before she sashayed back down the hall.