‘Learn, impertinent little puss?’ said Philip, smiling, ‘why should I not like him?’
‘I was sure you would try,’ said Charlotte, impressively.
‘Is it hard?’ said Amy. ‘But, oh, Philip! you could not help liking his singing.’
‘I never heard such a splendid voice,’ said Laura; ‘so clear and powerful, and yet so wonderfully sweet in the low soft notes. And a very fine ear: he has a real talent for music.’
‘Ah! inherited, poor fellow,’ said Philip, compassionately.
‘Do you pity him for it?’ said Amy, smiling.
‘Do you forget?’ said Philip. ‘I would not advise you to make much of this talent in public; it is too much a badge of his descent.’
‘Mamma did not think so,’ said Amy. ‘She thought it a pity he should not learn regularly, with such a talent; so the other day, when Mr. Radford was giving us a lesson, she asked Guy just to sing up and down the scale. I never saw anything so funny as old Mr Radford’s surprise, it was almost like the music lesson in “La Figlia del Reggimento”; he started, and looked at Guy, and seemed in a perfect transport, and now Guy is to take regular lessons.
‘Indeed.’
‘But do you really mean,’ said Laura, ‘that if your mother had been a musician’s daughter, and you had inherited her talent, that you would be ashamed of it.’