Her own Way by Eglanton Thorne

JULIET had now her own way to an extent of which a little while before she could hardly have dreamed as possible.

She should have been very happy, one might think. But human happiness does not consist of anything external, and it will not come even with the realisation of all one's desires. And Juliet would have said that she was far indeed from such an attainment. No acquisition satisfied her. She was ever reaching after something beyond. Her uncle's indulgence had the effect of making her more of a spoilt child than ever. Restless, petulant, and perverse, she was constantly working herself into a fever over something or other. She continually destroyed the peace of the household by her irritability and impatience.

Sometimes her mother would be reduced to tears by her conduct. When Juliet saw her thus grieved, she would be filled with contrition, even to self-loathing. She would overwhelm her mother with tender caresses and loving words. She would make many promises of amendment, and as long as the remorseful feeling lasted she would be quite gentle and docile in her ways. But, alas! The softened mood was never of long continuance. The old spirit would soon assert itself, and the wilful determination, to take her own way at any cost, rule her actions again.

At first the singing lessons were a pure delight to her.

Signor Lombardi's words seemed full of encouragement and even of flattering prophecy. But after a while, he began to criticise and correct with some sharpness. One day, he exhibited the utmost impatience because she did not play properly the accompaniment of her song.

"I did not undertake to teach you the A B C of music," he remarked, in scathing tones.

Juliet came home in despair, and cried bitterly as she told her mother about it. Mrs. Tracy persuaded her to ask Salome to help her in mastering the difficult accompaniment. Juliet's pride hated the idea of asking such help of Salome, but her dread of receiving a second rebuke from her master was even stronger than her pride. She humbled herself, and made the request of her sister.

Salome consented, but with a bad grace. She tried to improve the opportunity by showing Juliet how much she had missed by not continuing to study music with her. There is nothing more aggravating than some people's "I told you so. I knew you would regret it when it was too late."

Juliet could ill brook such comments, and the music lesson ended in a storm of recriminations which did not conduce to the harmony of the household.

Mrs. Tracy had accompanied Juliet when she went to take her first lesson of Signor Lombardi. On the following week, too, she went with her; but when the day for the third lesson came one of her severe headaches made it impossible for Mrs. Tracy to go out. She was at no time strong enough to bear much of the excitement and fatigue going about in London. She hoped that one of Juliet's sisters would be willing to accompany her. Salome at once declared that it would be impossible for her to go, since she was expected at a Dorcas meeting that afternoon, and Hannah looked annoyed at the suggestion, and said it would be very inconvenient for her to go, though she did not refuse to do so.

But when Juliet heard the question raised, she at once settled the matter in her own way. "I want neither Hannah nor Salome," she said. "I will go alone. There is no reason in the world why I should not. Other girls went about in London alone. It was a foolish and exploded notion that girls needed always to have a duenna. I have no patience with it. I hope I know how to take care of myself. I hate to be treated as a child."

To her mother, it seemed that many girls might be better trusted to go about alone than Juliet. Not that she doubted her daughter's discretion. But the girl was so pretty and striking-looking, she was certain to attract attention wherever she went, and might possibly be subjected to impertinence. But it was vain to argue the question with Juliet. She was bent on doing as she liked, and from that day she went alone to take her singing lessons.

On the second occasion of her going alone, she met Algernon Chalcombe on the platform of the station at which she took the train for the suburb in which she lived. It was impossible to avoid greeting him, had she been disposed to do so. His face was radiant with pleasure as she shook hands with him.

"This is a happy chance for me, Miss Tracy. What a lucky thing that I missed the earlier train! Let me relieve you of this."

And he took from her the portfolio of music she was carrying. The next minute, as the train came up, he opened the door of an empty compartment, and when she had entered, stepped in also.

"You have been taking your singing lesson, I see. Do you always return by this train?"

"When I can catch it," said Juliet. "Sometimes I am detained, and arrive just in time to see it gliding out of the station."

"A most aggravating experience. It was mine a quarter of an hour ago. I felt savage at the moment; but now I am awfully glad that I missed that train. It is a long time since I have had the pleasure of seeing you, Miss Tracy."

Juliet's face flushed. It was pleasant to hear him say it, pleasant, though somewhat embarrassing, to meet the look that was in his dark eyes. He was certainly a very handsome man. The fashionable and faultless style of his dress had its influence on Juliet's impressionable mind. He was a "perfect gentleman," she told herself again.

And Algernon Chalcombe was observing her with new pleasure. He had been charmed with her prettiness when he had seen in her only a "little schoolgirl. " It had been amusing to flirt with her without any serious intention. But now she was no longer a schoolgirl. She was a very charming young lady, beautifully dressed, and currying herself with an air which made people as they passed her involuntarily turn to look at her a second time.