"And the fiddler," added the woman tartly.
"Ach," Phœbe laughed. "Miss Lee will take care of me."
"Mebbe so," grumbled Aunt Maria.
"Now look here, Maria," Jacob spoke up, "Phœbe can go this fall once and try it and she can come home often and if she don't like it she can come home right away. It takes only three hours to go to there. So, Phœbe, you write to Miss Lee and tell her to expect you."
"Then I may go!" She threw her arms about her father's neck and kissed his bearded face. Demonstrations of affection were rare in the Metz household, but the father smiled as he stroked the girl's hair.
"You be a good girl, Phœbe, that's all I want," he said.
"I will, daddy, I will!"
"Then, Maria, you take Phœbe to Lancaster and get things ready so she can go in September. I'll let her take that thousand she has in the bank, but that must reach; it's enough for music lessons."
"I won't need all of it. What's left I'll save for next year."
"Next year! How many years must you go?" demanded Aunt Maria, still unhappy and sore.