Juliet had been hardening herself in anticipation of reproof, but she had not expected such words as these. As she heard her mother's faltering tones, and saw that there were tears in her eyes, her own face fell, and she said in tones that expressed unfeigned regret—
"Oh, mother! I am so sorry. I did not think you would mind so very much."
"My dear, after what I said to you only the other day, you must have known that I should very much dislike the idea of your entering the Chalcombes' house."
"Well, yes, I suppose I did know it," Juliet acknowledged ruefully; "but Flossie persuaded me so, and she taunted me with being afraid of Hannah. I could not stand that. But I am sorry if you are vexed with me. Oh dear! I am always doing the wrong thing."
"It is because you are so thoughtless, dear. You always act upon impulse. If only you would give yourself time to reflect."
"Oh, mother, don't preach to me!" exclaimed Juliet impatiently. "It is done now; and, after all, I am not entirely sorry, for, do you know, I was singing to Flossie, and Mr. Chalcombe heard me—"
"Oh, did you see him?" interrupted Mrs. Tracy, in a tone of vexation.
"Yes, he came into the room when I was singing. He is a vulgar little man, mother; but he knows about things, and he said my voice was beautiful, and that if it were properly trained I should be a great success as a public singer, and earn lots of money. Only think, mother, how much better that would be than teaching brats, as Hannah wants me to do!"
"I don't agree with you, dear. The idea is not at all to my mind."
"But, mother, would you not like to have a daughter who could sing like Antoinette Sterling? Fancy, he said I might earn thirty guineas a night! Only think! We should soon be as rich as Crœsus!"