After the six weeks of probation, Garcia consented to give Jenny Lind two lessons a week. He taught her the management of her breath, the production of the voice, and the blending of its registers, of which she had known nothing. For ten months she continued her studies under Garcia. The problem then arose whether she should appear somewhere on the Continent or return immediately to Stockholm. Paris she hated. It was too immoral. Its frivolity displeased her, its selfishness irritated her, but its restless love of excitement in all forms horrified her. To return to Stockholm without having sung in Paris would be to incur the implication that she was not good enough to sing in Paris, and Stockholm received its opinions on art and music from Paris. In a letter written at this time she told of her despair: “It might perhaps be better for me to engage myself somewhere as nursery-maid; for it is a very difficult thing to appear, here, in public. On the stage it would be out of the question. It could only be in the concert-room: and there I am at my weakest point, and shall always remain so. What is wanted here is--‘admirers.’ Were I inclined to receive them, all would be smooth sailing. But there I say--STOP!” She was no longer the “small, ugly, broad-nosed, shy, gauche, under-grown girl.” She was beginning to burgeon into a plain, but not unattractive, womanhood. Never was she what might be called beautiful, and her most ardent admirers have always been ready to admit that she was plain, confining their raptures to her voice and its effect on her appearance as she became inspired by its loveliness and the force of the music she was singing. Meyerbeer heard her on the stage of the Paris opera house privately, and he said of her voice, “Une voix chaste et pure, pleine de grâce et de virginalité.” He advised her to sing at once in Germany, but she had already signed her Swedish contract and was homesick for Stockholm. She never sang in public at Paris during her life, and the Parisians resented her refusal to sing there, but she kept her determination to reproach France by ignoring it, and made only one public appearance in France, a concert for charity at Nice in her last years. When invited to sing at the Paris opera, she wrote the director, “For the more I think of it, the more I am persuaded that I am not suited for Paris, nor Paris for me.” She was quite right. It is very unlikely that Paris would ever have become wildly enthusiastic about “une voix chaste et pure, pleine de virginalité”; and it would have been impossible for Jenny Lind to be happy in a city where the senses were of more interest than the pleasures of the _religieuse_ to which she was so passionately addicted.