The four came down into the hall to be congratulated. Miss Conyngham paid a stately compliment to the acting; Miss Craigie, with a grave face, rather belied by her twinkling eyes, admired the chemistry; even Ingrid remarked condescendingly, "Not half bad for kids."
Joey, standing in the midst of a congratulatory group of Remove II. B girls, felt a touch on her arm, and, turning, found herself face to face with the Professor. He was smiling quite pleasantly.
"A clefare and entertaining little play, Mees Jocelyn Graham," he said. "And it is you that plan it, is it not? My congratulations."
"Oh, thanks awfully; but it wasn't me really—we all four did it," Joey began, in some confusion, when Noreen caught what she said, and interrupted.
"Don't listen to her, Professor Trouville; she planned it really; and it was jolly brainy of her, wasn't it?"
The Professor smiled, his curious, sphinx-like smile.
"I thank you, Mees Noreen. I thought that I congratulate the right one, but your friend of the scholarship is modest, n'est ce pas?"
"Really the old chap was quite human for once, wasn't he?" Noreen remarked, as the four went up to Blue Dorm a few minutes later. "I hope Gabrielle went for him about the babes while he was in this yielding mood. She won't get her nose snapped off quite so close to her face."
But Joey didn't answer; she was wondering why it was that she had found the Professor's pleasantness so singularly unpleasant.