"Respect for him!" he echoed. "Not recognize him! Why, there isn't a man on the place who wouldn't give his ears to be seen on the same side of the street with Lestrange, let alone to work under him. They do read the racing news. That part of it will be all right, if I can have him."
"If it is necessary—"
"I think it is, sir."
Emily moved slightly, pushing back her yellow-brown curls under the ribbon that banded them. On a sudden impulse her uncle looked up at her.
"What is your opinion?" he questioned. "If Dick had been listening I should have asked his, and I fancy yours is fully as valuable. Come, shall we have this racing manager?"
Astonished, she looked from her uncle to the other man. And perhaps it was the real anxiety and suspense of Bailey's expression that drew her quick reply.
"Let us, uncle. Since we need him, let us have him."
"Very well," said Mr. Ffrench. "You hear, Bailey."
There was a long silence after the junior partner's withdrawal.
"Come where I can see you, Emily," her uncle finally demanded. "I liked your decided answer a few moments ago; you can reason. How long have you been a daughter in my house?"