"That Miss Majendie, who is virtually your guardian—can explain it all to you much better than I can."
"Aunt Jane is not my guardian!" The mild look of enquiry changes to one of light anger. The white brow contracts. "And certainly she could never make one happy and comfortable. Well—what else?"
"She will look after——"
"I told you I don't care about Aunt Jane. Tell me what you can do——"
"See that your fortune is not——"
"I don't care about my fortune either," with a little gesture. "But I do care about my happiness. Will you see to that?"
"Of course," says the professor gravely.
"Then you will take me away from Aunt Jane!" The small vivacious face is now all aglow. "I am not happy with Aunt Jane. I"—clasping her hands, and letting a quick, vindictive fire light her eyes—"I hate Aunt Jane. She says things about poor papa that——Oh! how I hate her!"
"But—you shouldn't—you really should not. I feel certain you ought not," says the professor, growing vaguer every moment.
"Ought I not?" with a quick little laugh that is all anger and no mirth. "I do though, for all that! I"—pausing, and regarding him with a somewhat tragic air that sits most funnily upon her—"am not going to stay here much longer!"