Her thoughts recurred to Mr. Mainprice as she spoke. When he heard of her as a singer of worldwide renown, adored, courted, and rolling in wealth, he would not be able to say that he was sorry for her.
"You had better study abroad," said Algernon; "I should advise your going to the Conservatoire at Paris."
"Signor Lombardi spoke highly of the instruction at Milan," said Juliet timidly. "I wanted mother to go with me there, but she would not think of it."
"You could not go alone," he said decisively.
"No?" she repeated. "Why not?"
"Why not?" he repeated. "Do you need to ask?" Then bending nearer to her and speaking in low, tender tones, he said, "I will tell you, darling, why it would not do. It is because you are a young and lovely girl, and need someone to protect you. If you went to and fro as a friendless woman student, and mingled in the mixed circles of the artistic world, you might be subjected to indignities—to insults; I shudder when I think to what you might be exposed. No, you must not go alone. I cannot consent to that."
Juliet's eyes were downcast; her face was glowing. The prospect his words presented to her filled her with alarm. She shrank from the thought of being treated with indignity, of being jostled amongst vulgar, ill-bred people, who would accord her no deference.
"What can I do, then?" she asked, rather hopelessly. "Can I not be trained in England?"
He did not reply for a moment.
"I heard someone say the other day," continued Juliet, "that it was now possible to get as good a musical education in England as anywhere on the Continent."