esley rather preferred Browning and
Arnold to Oliver's favorites, but she was never certain of her own
taste, and was always humbly afraid that she might be making some
terrible mistake in her preferences.

She certainly found Mr. Trent's aid very valuable in the matter of her
singing. The best singing-mistress in London had been found for her, and
she practised diligently every day; but it was delightful to find
somebody who could always play her accompaniments, and was ready with
discriminating praise or almost more flattering criticism. Oliver had
considerable musical knowledge, and he placed it at Lesley's service.
She made a much quicker and more marked advance in her singing than she
could possibly have done without his assistance. And for this she was
grateful.

At the same time she was uneasy. It was contrary to all her previous
experience that a young man should be allowed to spend so much time with
her. She did not think that her mother would approve of it. But she
could not ask Lady Alice, because she had now no communication with her:
a purely formal letter respecting her health and general welfare was
all, she had been told, that she would be permitted to write. And sooner
than write a letter of that kind Lesley had proudly resolved not to
write at all. But she pined for womanly counsel and assistance in the
matter.

Miss Brooke was certainly not proving herself an efficient chaperon.
Aunt Sophy had never risen to a clear view of her duty in the matter.
She herself had never been chaperoned in her life; but had gone about to
lectures and dissecting rooms and hospitals with a fine indifference to
sex. But then Doctor Sophy had never been a pretty woman; and no young
man had shown a wish to spend his spare hours in her drawing-room. She
had a strong belief in the wisdom and goodness of women--young and
old--and declared that they could always take care of themselves when
they chose. And nothing would induce her to believe that her niece,
Lesley Brooke, required protection or guardianship. She would have
thought it an insult to her own family to suggest such a thing.

So she treated Lesley's rather timidly worded suggestions on the subject
with cheerful contempt, as the conventional notions of a convent-bred
young woman who had not yet realized the strides made in the progress of
mankind--and especially of womankind. And Lesley soon felt quite sure
that any complaint or protest of hers would be dealt with