"You must learn Italian as fast as you can, so as to learn the Italian manner of singing," said my aunt, at which Mr. Goodgroome frowned but did not speak.
"I know something of the language already," said I. "My mother and father both spoke it."
"Why, you are quite an accomplished young lady," said my aunt playfully. "Can you draw at all?"
"Yes, aunt, a little."
"You must have lessons of Browne by and by, but not at present, I think. I don't wish you to spend too much time at lessons. What hours can you give her, Mr. Goodgroome?"
Mr. Goodgroome pulled out his table-book, and after some consideration, decided that he could give me from eight to nine on Tuesdays and Fridays.
"Why, that is rather early," said my aunt.
"I cannot make it later," replied the professor, with an air of importance. "I must go to my Lady Sandwich's young daughters at nine, and to Whitehall at eleven. But I can take from five to six in the afternoon if it will suit better."
"Nay, that is worse than the other," replied my aunt; so it was settled that I should begin my lessons at eight on Tuesday morning.
I inwardly determined that I would spend as much as possible of the intervening time in diligently practising my fingering scales and trillos, so as not to discredit my mother's teaching.