“No, go on with your work. If you prop me a little higher and give me my glass, I’ll read it.”
This operation completed, she read the letter through. It was not until Ellen’s name occurred that Cousin Hattie displayed any real interest. At the sound of her daughter’s name, the woman put down her sewing and assumed an attitude of passionate listening.
“Ellen,” ran the letter, “is doing splendidly. She is contented here and is working hard under Philippe. She plays better than ever ... if that is possible, and plans to make her début in London next year. She has every reason to make a great success. I am leaving her in my house when I come to America. She gets on beautifully with Madame Gigon. That was my greatest worry, for Madame Gigon has grown worse as she has grown older. But she has taken a fancy to Ellen ... fortunately, so everything is perfect. Tell Cousin Hattie that one day she will be proud of her daughter.”
Julia Shane, when she had finished, put down the letter, and regarded her niece. “You see, Hattie,” she said, “there is no need to worry. Everything is going splendidly. Ellen couldn’t be in better hands. Lily knows her way about the world a great deal better than most. Some day your daughter will be famous.”
There came no response from her niece. Mrs. Tolliver sat upright and thoughtful. Presently she took up the pillow case and set to work again.
“These débuts,” she said. “They cost money, don’t they?”
“Yes,” replied her aunt.
“Well where is Ellen to get it? Clarence’s life insurance must all be gone by this time.”
“I suppose Lily has found a way. Lily is clever. Besides Ellen isn’t altogether helpless.”
Again there was a thoughtful pause and the old woman said, “I don’t think you’d be pleased if Ellen was a great success.”