Edna settled herself a little more comfortably on her chair. "Dear me," she said, "was he ever your professor, Miss Drake?"
Miss Drake smiled. "Why yes, my dear. Back in the dark ages, some ten or twelve years ago he was."
Edna opened her eyes, yet it certainly was easier to imagine this Miss Drake as a college student less time ago than that, though the instructor who sternly conducted the Latin class—in which the freshman sat, might well have been a fellow student with Professor Satterthwaite, Edna reflected. She thawed out enough to say:
"It must be pleasant to come back and teach in the college where you were once a student."
"Yes, it is," returned Miss Drake with a twinkle in her eye, "except when my girls think me an iceberg."
Edna turned scarlet, and Janet turned indignantly on Lee. "I think that was horrid of you, Lee Penrose."
"What was horrid?" asked Lee innocently turning from her occupation of making tea.
"To tell Miss Drake that we called her an iceberg."
"Oh, but I didn't, did I, Miss Drake?" said Lee.
"No, really she did not. That was merely a haphazard hit. When the girls are scared, they always call me that, and so I guessed that you did," explained Miss Drake. "Come here, Miss Waite, and see how comfortable this divan is with three pillows at one's back."