Mama and I both gasped for breath, and I could have cried for disappointment as well as mortification. However, I felt he was right, and, strange to say, mama felt so too. He said, "Take six months' rest and don't sing a single note, then come back to me." When he saw the crestfallen look on my face, he added, kindly, "Then we shall see something wonderful."
We leave for Dresden this evening…. Love to all.
Your humble
LILLIE.
LONDON, May, 1860.
DEAR A.,—I have not written since we left the kind V. Rensselaers in Dresden. Mama must have given you all the details of our life there…. I hope, now that I have studied French, German, and Italian like a good little girl for six months and not "sung a single note," that I may venture to present myself before the great Garcia again.
I can't imagine that I am the same person who has (it seems to me years ago) sung before large, distinguished, and enthusiastic audiences, has been a little belle, in a way, in Cambridge, has had serenades from the Harvard Glee Club (poor aunty! routed out of your sleep in the middle of the night to listen to them), inspired poetry, and danced on "the Green" on Class Day. I felt as if I ought to put on pantalettes and wear my hair down my back. I look now upon myself as a real Backfisch, as the Germans call very young girls, and that is simply what I am; and I feel that I ought never to have been allowed to sport about in those fascinating clear waters which reflected no shadows, now that I must go back to the millpond and learn to swim.
I have been already three weeks studying hard with Garcia, who is not only a wonderful teacher, but is a wonderful personality. I simply worship him, though he is very severe and pulls me up directly I "slipshod," as he calls it; and so far I have literally sung nothing but scales. He says that a scale must be like a beautiful row of pearls: each note like a pearl, perfect in roundness and color.
This is so easy to say, but very difficult to accomplish. Stone-breaking on the highroad is nothing to it. I come home tired out from my lessons, only to begin singing scales again. I tell mama I feel like a fish with the scales being taken off him.
Four hours by myself and two lessons a week will soon reduce your poor niece to a scaleton. Ah! please forgive this….