The ebullition of wrath on the part of her mild guardian has been a slight shock to her.
"Tell me ?" persists she.
"Tell you! what is there to tell you?
I should think the veriest infant would have known she oughtn't to come here." "I should think an infant would know nothing," with dignity.

"All your scientific researches have left you, I'm afraid, very ignorant.
And I should think that the very first thing even an infant would do, if she could walk, would be to go straight to her guardian when in trouble." "At this hour ?" "At any hour.

What," throwing out her hands expressively, "is a guardian _for,_ if it isn't to take care of people ?" The professor gives it up.

The heat of battle has overcome him.

With a deep breath he drops into a chair, and begins to wonder how long it will be before happy death will overtake him.
But in the meantime, whilst sitting on a milestone of life waiting for that grim friend, what is to be done with her?
If--Good heavens! if anyone had seen her come in! "Who opened the door for you ?" demands he abruptly.
"A great big fat woman with a queer voice! Your Mrs.Mulcahy of course.