"Yes," Juliet answered, with some hesitation, "I think he is a good teacher, but so severe. Sometimes I despair of ever pleasing him."
"Oh, you must not despair," said Algernon; "his severity is just the highest compliment he can pay you. He is severe with you because he sees that you are worth taking great pains with. If you had only mediocre talent, he would be far less particular with you."
"That explanation is highly gratifying to my vanity," said Juliet, with a laugh. "I wish I could lay the flattering unction to my soul."
"You may indeed, for it is true," he replied. "I happen to know, for Signor Lombardi was speaking to me of you only the other day. You know that he and I are old friends."
It was impossible for Juliet to help looking at him with eager, questioning eyes, though she was too proud to put a direct question.
"I asked him how you were getting on," said Algernon, responding to her look, "and he said you were doing well."
"Did he?" exclaimed Juliet, in tones of delighted surprise. "Now, why could he not have told me that?"
Algernon shrugged his shoulders.
"It is not his way, I suppose. But it is a fact that he thinks very highly of you. He says you have a beautiful voice, so clear and flexible. He thinks you might do anything with such a voice."
"Does he?" cried Juliet rapturously. "Oh, if only I could!"