Meanwhile Duane, accompanied by the Carslake seniors, went off to her study, where she dropped into the easy-chair with an air of fatigue, while the others disposed themselves on the table and such chairs as the little room possessed.
"We don't begin again till half-past two, one comfort," said Duane dreamily. "Give us plenty of time to digest our dinners. I hope the analysis of my compound works out right."
"Let us know if it does, won't you?" said France eagerly.
"Oh, certainly," replied Duane. "I believe mine will come right," she added reflectively. "I've a sort of feeling it will."
"In your bones, I presume," suggested Kitty maliciously. Kitty was always rubbed up the wrong way by Duane's airy manner of treating even serious things.
"That's just it," assented Duane at once. "Only I hope," anxiously, "it won't turn out to be rheumatism after all."
Kitty laughed. "Scored off me there," she said frankly. "Hallo, who's this?"
"This" proved to be a junior from one of the other houses.
"If you please, Duane," she said, "I've come from Miss Vacher. She wants a pipette out of the laboratory at once. I think she's doing some experimental work in her room and she said, as you had the key, would you mind fetching a pipette for her? She hopes it won't be troubling you, and I'll take it back with me."
"Why on earth has Washer given the key to you, Cato?" asked France, looking surprised.