But ever since, he sends one young girl away to Europe every
year for a thorough musical education under the best teachers--
in memory of his daughter. He has sent nine or ten already;
but I fear there isn't much chance for Sylvia Gray, and she
doesn't think there is herself."
"Why not?" asked the Old Lady spiritedly. "I am sure that there
can be few voices equal to Miss Gray's."
"Very true. But you see, these so-called scholarships are
private affairs, dependent solely on the whim and choice of
Andrew Cameron himself. Of course, when a girl has friends who use
their influence with him, he will often send her on their recommendation.
They say he sent a girl last year who hadn't much of a voice at all
just because her father had been an old business crony of his.
But Sylvia doesn't know anyone at all who would, to use a slang term,
have any 'pull' with Andrew Cameron, and she is not acquainted
with him herself. Well, I must be going; we'll see you at the Manse
on Saturday, I hope, Miss Lloyd. The Circle meets there, you know."
"Yes, I know," said the Old Lady absently. When the minister's wife
had gone, she dropped her sweetgrass basket and sat for a long,
long time with her hands lying idly in her lap, and her big black
eyes staring unseeingly at the wall before her.
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