She had never been permitted to exercise a will of her own, and the discovery that she possessed one had been something of a surprise to Dinah.
It was partly this discovery that made her long so passionately for freedom.

She wanted to grow, to develop, to get beyond the stultifying influence of that unvarying despotism.

She longed to get away from the perpetual dread of consequences that so haunted her.

She wanted to breathe her own atmosphere, live her own life, be herself.
"I believe I could do lots of things if I only had the chance," she murmured to herself; and then she was suddenly plunged into the memory of another occasion when she had received summary and austere punishment for omitting scales from her practising.

But then no one ever liked doing what they must, and she had never had any real taste for music; or if she had had, it had vanished long since under the uninspiring goad of compulsion.
All her morning depression came back while these bitter meditations racked her brain.