The playing of the great Savelli at the concert was still a matter of comment in Oakdale.  There were several persons in the audience who had previously heard him play, and had at once recognized him.  More remarkable still was the fact of his being the father of Eleanor Savelli, and all sorts of rumors sprang up regarding his advent in Oakdale, and his affairs in general.  As for Eleanor, it was some time before she could accustom herself to the idea of having a living father, and a famous one at that.  She had gone down to the carriage on the night of the concert wondering what was in store for her, and had scarcely stepped inside before she had been clasped in the arms of the virtuoso, and addressed as his child.  Shaking herself free from his clasp, she had demanded an explanation from her aunt, who had told her the truth, which to her at the time had seemed unbelievable.

Her first feeling toward her father had been entirely one of pride.  Her aunt had been all in all to her since babyhood, therefore she experienced little of the feeling of affection toward him that he manifested for her.  The fact that her father was a great artist was a source of infinite satisfaction to her, but gradually as she grew better acquainted with him she began to experience a degree of affection for him that in time became positive worship.

He was to remain at “Heartsease” until after her graduation, then, accompanied by Miss Nevin, Eleanor was to sail for Italy with him, there to remain until he should begin a European concert tour in the fall.  Then she would go to Leipsig and enter the very conservatory where her mother and father had met.  She had resumed the final “i” so long dropped from her name, and now proudly signed herself Savelli.

The Phi Sigma Tau, particularly Anne and Grace, became prime favorites with the great violinist and were frequently invited to “Heartsease” to hear him play, an honor which was accorded to no one else in Oakdale.

The days hurried by altogether too swiftly to suit Grace and her three closest friends, who looked forward to commencement week with mingled emotions of joy and regret.  Graduation was the goal they had been striving for four years to reach, but graduation meant also the parting of the ways, and as the four chums looked back over their High School life it seemed to them that they could never again have quite the good times that they had enjoyed in one another’s society.

“‘We who are about to die salute you’” quoted Nora O’Malley, as the four girls strolled home from school on the Friday preceding commencement.

“What a cheerful remark,” laughed Grace Harlowe.

“Well, that’s the way I feel, at any rate,” declared Nora.  “I can’t bear to think that next year we’ll all be scattered to the four winds, or, rather, the two winds, because Jessica and I will be together, and so will you and Anne.”

“Go to college with us, then,” slyly tempted Grace.