"Yes," replied Jane hastily, while with a sudden intentness, she raised her eyes to her uncle.
"And you too, Mr. Atkins?"
"The congreve rocket which this morning set afire the good city of B., and will probably enflame hundreds of other cities? Yes, Doctor Stephen, we have read it."
"That delights me. The congreve rocket came out of my house--the article is by Professor Fernow."
Jane trembled, and let the journal fall as if she had all at once taken a glowing coal into her hand; but Mr. Atkins started from his chair, stood erect a moment, and then just as suddenly sat down again.
"It is not possible!" said he dryly.
"Well, I have heard that word at least thirty times to-day?" replied the doctor triumphantly, without feeling in the slightest degree offended. "All have cried out to me, 'impossible!' I could not have believed it myself if the awkwardness of Frederic, who was sent to take the article to the printing office, had not revealed all. I naturally awaited its effect, and then I gave my secret to the four winds. It fell like a bomb into the university; it has kindled a fire everywhere. The professor must make up his mind to a reception when he returns, and I to a scene with him, for he will be enraged at my indiscretion. Bah! He did not take me into his confidence, I had no silence to keep. What do you say to all this, Jane!"
"I? nothing!" said Jane with the severest tone and emphasis that lay at her command. Then she turned away, went to the window, and pressed her forehead against the panes.
"And you, Mr. Atkins!"
The gentleman addressed leaned back resignedly in his chair.