, and what this professor was like, and what the
Prexy said or was supposed to have said, and so on. It was all college
gossip, but Molly enjoyed it and contributed her share eagerly. She
tried a little of it on Brother Willie.

"Are you taking up Higher Math. this year, Mr. Stewart?" she asked.

"Oh, after a fashion," he answered. "I don't expect to stay at college
after this year. I'm going to Paris to finish off."

Molly wondered what "Higher Math. after a fashion" really meant.

At the concert later it was a relief to find herself next to Professor
Green, who had scarcely looked in her direction all through dinner. At
first she felt a little embarrassed, sitting next to the Professor, who
was a great man at Wellington. She began silently to admire the packed
audience of young girls in light dresses with a generous sprinkling of
young men in evening clothes.

"You'll probably be a member of the club next year, Miss Brown," the
Professor was saying. "I'm sure you must sing. I am surprised they have
not found it out by this time. Next winter you must----"

"I doubt if I am here next winter," interrupted Molly, and then blushed
furiously and bit her lip. She wished she had not made that speech.

"Is anything going to happen that will keep you from coming to college
next winter?" he asked, glancing at the violets.

"How can I tell what will happen?" she answered childishly.

"Then, why not come back next year?"

"Because--because----" she began. "Oh, here they come!" she interrupted
herself to say, as the members of the Glee Club filed slowly out and
took their seats. "Aren't they sweet in their white dresses?"

"Very!" answered the Professor, "but what's this about next year? It was
just idle talk, wasn't it?"

"No, no," whispered Molly, for the first number was about to begin;
"hasn't Mr. Blount told you anything?"

"Why, no. That is, nothing about you. What on earth?"

"Didn't you have a list of the stockholders?"

"You mean of the Square Deal Mine?" he asked in entire amazement.

"Yes."

"I have a list, but what of it?"

"My mother's name is there--Mrs. Mildred Carmichael Brown."

"Great heavens!" groaned the Professor. Then he sunk far down in his
seat and buried his face in his program.

Jenny Wren opened the concert with this song, which suited her high,
bird-like voice to perfection:

"'Oh, I wish I were a tiny,
Browny bird from out the South,
Settled among the alderholts