"But I'm not going with the brakes, duckie, so I couldn't hold you," Joey said.
"You are going to stay at home and play with Tiddles?" asked the mite, with dawning hope.
Joey shook her head, though she felt very unkind. "No, pet; but I'll tell you everything—Honour! and play with you to-morrow instead."
"Won't you play with her now, Jo-ey?" Tiddles pleaded. She had a quaint way of speaking, as though she were a personality quite distinct from the Tiddles whom the College petted and treated as a baby.
"I can't, darling; I have to go in there," Joey nodded in the direction of the Lab. "And you must let me go now, for I have to be busy."
Tiddles let go of her hand without a word, and stood looking after her with brimming eyes, but without actually crying. Joey felt a brute to leave her like that, but it had to be done. It was already nearly ten minutes past twelve; the Professor would be waiting for her.
He was. She saw that directly he unlocked the door to her, as quickly as though he had been standing just inside. His face was less impassive than usual, and it had a slightly yellowish look, while the eyes upon which Gabrielle had commented were strained. But the face relaxed a little at the sight of Joey. "You are late! I feared you would not come," he said.
"I'm so sorry; I just got kept by poor little Tiddles—she was crying," Joey explained. She did not wait to tell him why; the Professor did not care for children, and would not want to know she thought.