He instructed her
minutely in how to stand, in how to breathe, in how to open
her mouth and keep it open, in how to relax her throat
and leave it relaxed. He filled every second of her
half-hour; she had never before realized how much time
half an hour was, how use could be made of every one
of its eighteen hundred seconds. She went to hear
other teachers give lessons, and she understood why
Jennings could get such prices, could treat his pupils
as he saw fit. She became an extravagant admirer of
him as a teacher, thought him a genius, felt confident
that he would make a great singer of her. With the
second lesson she began to progress rapidly. In a few
weeks she amazed herself. At last she was really singing.
Not in a great way, but in the beginnings of a
great way. Her voice had many times the power of
her drawing-room days. Her notes were full and
round, and came without an effort. Her former ideas
of what constituted facial and vocal expression now
seemed ridiculous to her. She was now singing without
making those dreadful faces which she had once
thought charming and necessary.
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