"Partridges are scarcely worth shooting yet but he has arranged a few
drives over the hills. As for my being late--well, that has something to
do with you, young lady."
Ella looked at him with a sudden seriousness in her great eyes.
"Daddy, you've heard something!"
Lord Ashleigh pulled a bundle of letters from his pocket.
"I have," he admitted.
"Quick!" Ella begged. "Tell us all about it? Don't sit there, dad, looking
so stolid. Can't you see I am dying to hear? Quick, please!"
Her father smiled, glanced for a moment at the plate which had been passed
to him from the side table, approved of it and stretched out his hand for
his cup.
"I heard this morning," he said, "from your friend Delarey. He went into
the matter very fully. You shall read his letter presently. The sum and
substance of it all, however, is that for the first year of your musical
training he advises--where do you think?"
"Dresden," Lady Ashleigh suggested.
"Munich? Paris?" Ella put in breathlessly.
"All wrong," Lord Ashleigh declared. "New York!"
There was a momentary silence. Ella's eyes were sparkling. Her mother's
face had fallen.
"New York!" Ella murmured. "There is wonderful music there, and Mr.
Delarey knows it so well."
Lord Ashleigh nodded portentously.
"I have not finished yet. Mr. Delarey wound up his letter by promising to
cable me his final decision in the course of a few days. This cablegram,"
he went on, drawing a little slip of blue paper from his pocket, "was
brought to me this morning whilst I was shaving.
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