"I wish she were to be here to our show, then," said Arline plaintively. "We would feature her. What's her other name?"
"Savelli," replied Grace quickly.
"Eleanor Savelli, the famous Italian pianiste," announced Arline, bowing to an imaginary audience. "Her name is the same as that of Savelli, the great virtuoso, isn't it?"
"He is her father," said Grace simply.
A little murmur of astonishment went up.
"Oh, if she had only come to Overton instead of going to Italy!" sighed Elizabeth Wade. "I heard Savelli play at a concert three years ago. I shall never forget him."
"We were awfully disappointed," interposed Miriam. "Eleanor's father was to tour America this winter, but changed his mind. There was talk of a spring tour, but we haven't heard from Eleanor for over a month, so we don't know whether there is any possibility of his sailing for America. If he did come to this country, Eleanor would be sure to accompany him. She has promised us that."
"There is no use in wishing for the impossible, children," said Emma Dean briskly, rising from the table and beginning to put on her coat. "There is also no use in being late for dinner. In spite of this bounteous repast," she indicated the empty sundae glasses, "I yearn for Mrs. Elwood's simple but infinitely more satisfying fare. It's almost six o'clock. Those that are going with me, hurry up."
"We must have another meeting within the next two or three days," declared Grace. "Can all of you girls come to our room next Friday evening? In the meantime we will arrange a programme which will be brought before the club for approval at our next meeting. Don't any of you fail to be there."
As the Wayne Hall girls flocked in the front door that night, Mrs. Elwood met them with: "Miss Harlowe, there is a young lady in the living room, waiting for you. She's been there almost an hour."