father. They inclosed his letter in one from them asking whether I were
desirous of acquainting him with my whereabouts.

"He has written rather a sad letter. He seems to have awakened to a late
remorse for having neglected my sister as he did. He asks for his child,
and if he may see her. He has just finished a concert tour of America,
and is at present in New York.

"Personally, I shall never forgive him, but have I the right to keep
Eleanor from her father? He is both rich and famous, and she would adore
him, for his music, if for nothing else. I have always said that when
she became twenty-one years of age I should tell her of him, leaving to
her the choice of claiming or ignoring him.

"But I never supposed for one instant that he would ever come forward
and interest himself in her. A year ago I should not have considered her
fit to choose, but she is greatly changed. The two years in which she
has associated with girls of her own age have benefited her greatly. I
feel as though I could not bear to give her up now. Moreover, this idea
of claiming his child may be merely a whim on the part of her father. He
is liable to forget her inside of six weeks."

Grace listened to Miss Nevin in breathless silence. It was all like a
story-book romance.

Anne sat gazing off into space, thinking dreamily of the great virtuoso
who had found after years of selfish pleasure and devotion to himself
that blood was thicker than water. She fancied she could picture his
pride when he beheld Eleanor and realized that she was his own child,
and Eleanor's rapture when she knew that her father was master of the
violin she worshipped.

Suddenly an idea popped into Anne's head that was a positive
inspiration.

"Why not ask him to come down for our concert?" she said, amazed at her
own audacity in suggesting such a thing. "Eleanor need not know about
him at all. She is to play at the concert, you know. If he hears her
play he will realize more fully that she is really his own flesh and
blood, and if he has any real fatherly feeling for her it will come to
the surface. That will be the psychological moment in which to bring
them together."

"Anne, you're a genius!" cried Grace. "You ought to be appointed Chief
Arbiter of Destiny."

"Margaret," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, "I believe that Anne's idea is logical.
Shall you try it!"

"I shall write to Guido at once," said Miss Nevin, rising. "Knowing his
disposition as I do, it seems that I c