dear, with all those broken bones and that terrible gash! Isn't it
dreadful?"

"Pretty bad. Have you tried talking to Miss Oldham?"

"I've tried everything and nothing will move her. It's just a kind of
stubborn misery that seems to have paralyzed her, mind and body."

The two sat in silence for a moment, then the Professor said:

"Suppose I go down to Queen's to-night and see Miss Oldham? Do you think
she could be induced to come down into Mrs. Markham's sitting room and
have a talk with me?"

"I should think so. She wouldn't have the courage to decline to see one
of the faculty."

"Very well. If she is roused to get up and come down stairs, she may
come to her senses. But don't go yet. I have something to tell you,
something that doesn't concern Miss Oldham but--er--myself. Do you
remember the opera I told you about?"

Molly nodded.

"It's going into rehearsal Christmas week and will open in six weeks.
Are you pleased?"

Molly was pleased, of course. She was always glad of other people's good
luck.

"How would you like to go to the opening?" he asked.

"It would be wonderful, but--but I don't see how I can. I told you there
were complications."

"Yes, I know," he answered, "but you're to forget complications that
night and enjoy my first attempt to be amusing."

"I'll try," answered Molly, not realizing how her reply might sound to
the author of the comic opera, who only smiled good-naturedly and said:

"The music will be pretty at any rate."

They sat talking about the opera for some time, in fact, until the tower
clock clanged six.

"I never dreamed it was so late," apologized Molly, "and I have kept you
all this time. I know you must be awfully busy. I hope you will forgive
me."

"Didn't I just say that your time was quite as important as mine?" he
said. "And when two very important people get together the moments are
not wasted."

That night the Professor did call on Nance at Queen's, and the unhappy
girl was obliged to get into her things as quickly as possible and go
down. What he said to her Molly and Judy never knew, but in an hour
Nance returned to them in a normal, sensible state of mind, and not
again did she turn her face to the wall and refuse to be comforted.

"There is no doubt in my mind that Professor Green is the nicest person
in Wellington, that is, of the faculty," thought Molly as she settled
under the reading lamp, and prepared to study her Lit. lesson.

CHAPTER X