"I know enough," she returned. "In books they always die young, and it is the best thing they can do."
"It would be a sad thing for the world if that were always the fate of the good young men," said her uncle, smiling. "You are talking nonsense, you foolish child, and you know it. Nothing is of so much importance as a man's character. What he does, or what he has, are trifles in comparison. I see that more and more clearly as I grow older. What is a man worth to God? That is the supreme test of his life's value."
But her uncle's thoughts had taken a turn Juliet had no wish to pursue. She hastened to bring them back to the subject which so greatly interested her.
"How soon can I have lessons, uncle?" she asked.
"As soon as it can be arranged," he replied. "Where can we find a good singing master for you?"
"Signor Lombardi is the best," said Juliet promptly.
"That is a good deal to say for the man," observed her uncle; "how do you know that he is the best?"
"I have been told so by people who understand all about music," said Juliet, colouring. "Of course there must be many good masters in London; but Signor Lombardi is the one of whom I should like to learn."
It was Algernon Chalcombe who had advised her to secure, if possible, lessons from Signor Lombardi, of whom he had spoken as a first-class teacher, and one who had assisted to train and introduce to the world various musical stars, Algernon himself being one of the number.
"Very well," said Mr. Tracy good-naturedly; "Signor Lombardi it shall be. But remember this, Juliet," he added more gravely, "I will not for a moment countenance the idea of your becoming a public singer. You must study to develop your talent for your own pleasure, and the pleasure of others with whom you are thrown in your home and in society. Anything beyond that is out of the question for you."