If she were _your_ Aunt Jane you would know." "But my dear----" "I really wish," interrupts Miss Wynter petulantly, "you wouldn't call me 'my dear.' Aunt Jane calls me that when she is going to say something horrid to me.

Papa----" she pauses suddenly, and tears rush to her dark eyes.
"Yes.

What of your father ?" asks the professor hurriedly, the tears raising terror in his soul.
"You knew him--speak to me of him," says she, a little tremulously.
"I knew him well indeed.

He was very good to me when--when I was younger.

I was very fond of him." "He was good to everyone," says Miss Wynter, staring hard at the professor.