r with a truly noble attempt at sternness.

"Why can't I?" There is some indignation in her tone. "There's lots of
room here, isn't there?"

"There is _no_ room!" says the professor. This is the literal truth.
"The house is full. And--and there are only men here."

"So much the better!" says Perpetua, with a little frown and a great
deal of meaning. "I'm tired of women--they're horrid. You're always kind
to me--at least," with a glance, "you always used to be, and _you're_ a
man! Tell one of your servants to make me up a room somewhere."

"There isn't one," says the professor.

"Oh! nonsense," says she leaning back in her chair and yawning softly.
"I'm not so big that you can't put me away somewhere. _That woman_ says
I'm so small that I'll never be a grown-up girl, because I can't grow up
any more. Who'd live with a woman like that? And I shall grow more,
shan't I?"

"I daresay," says the professor vaguely. "But that is not the question
to be considered now. I must beg you to understand, Perpetua, that your
staying here is out of the question!"

"Out of the----Oh! I _see_" cries she, springing to her feet and turning
a passionately reproachful face on his. "You mean that I shall be in
your way here!"

"No, _no_, NO!" cries he, just as impulsively, and decidedly
very foolishly; but the sight of her small mortified face has proved too
much for him. "Only----"

"Only?" echoes the spoiled child, with a loving smile--the child who has
been accustomed to have all things and all people give way to her during
her short life. "Only you are afraid _I_ shall not be comfortable. But I
shall. And I shall be a great comfort to you too--a great _help_. I
shall keep everything in order for you. Do you remember the talk we had
that last day you came to Aunt Jane's? How I told you of the happy days
we should have together, if we _were_ together. Well, we are together
now, aren't we? And when I'm twenty-one, we'll move into a big, big
house, and ask people to dances and dinners and things. In the
meantime----" she pauses and glances leisurely around her. The glance is
very comprehensive. "To-morrow," says she with decision, "I shall settle
this room!"

The professor's breath fails him. He grows pale. To "settle" his room!

"Perpetua!" exclaims he, almost inarticulately, "you don't understand."

"I do indeed," returns she brightly. "I've often settled papa's den.
What! do you think me only a silly useless creature? You shall