But that wasn’t all. She had ideas as well of still higher education. Will Deverill had given her the first key to books—and books are the gateways of the deepest knowledge. Partly to escape from the monotony of Andreas Hausberger’s conversation, partly also quite definitely to fit herself for the place in the world she was hereafter to fill—when she went to England—Linnet turned to books as new friends and companions. German literature first of all, and especially the dramatic. Andreas was wise enough in his generation to approve of that; he was aware that acquaintance with plays and with romantic works in general forms no small integral part of an opera-singer’s equipment. German literature, then, first—Goethe, Schiller, Lessing, Richter, Paul Heyse, Freiligrath—German literature first, but after it English. Andreas approved of that, too, for was there not much money to be made out of England and America? It was well Linnet should enlarge her English vocabulary; well, too, she should know the plays and novels on which _Romeo e Giulietta_, and _Lucia di Lammermoor_, and _I Puritani_ were founded. But Linnet herself had other reasons of her own for wishing to study English. Though she looked upon Will Deverill as something utterly lost to her, a bright element in her life now faded away for ever, she yet cherished the memory of that one real love episode so deep in her heart that, for her Englishman’s sake, she loved England and English. She looked forward to the time when she should go to England; not so much because she thought she should ever meet Will Deverill there—Naples and Munich had taught her vaguely to appreciate the probable vastness of London—but because it was the country where Will Deverill lived, and it spoke the tongue Will had made so dear to her. So she read every English book she could easily obtain—Shakespeare, Milton, Scott, Dickens, Thackeray—and she took oral lessons in conversational English, which as Andreas justly remarked, would improve her accent, and enable her to sing better in English opera. Thus three years passed away, and Linnet in their course saw much of the Continent. They got as far north and west at times as Leipzig, Brussels, and even Paris. But they always spent their winters in Italy; it was best for Linnet’s throat, Andreas thought; it gave her abundance of fresh air and sunshine; and besides, the Italian style of teaching was better suited, he felt sure, to her ardent, excitable Tyrolese temperament, than the colder and more learned Bavarian method.