Here was news indeed for seven seniors at the very head and front of college affairs.
"And where did you get this interesting information, little one?" demanded Margaret.
Otoyo blushed and hesitated; then cocked her head on one side exactly like a little song sparrow and glancing timidly at Nance, replied:
"Mr. Andrew McLean, second, he told it to me."
Nance smiled unconcernedly. She never dreamed of being jealous of the funny little Japanese.
"And why, pray, didn't Miss Walker announce it this morning at chapel when she made her opening address?" asked Margaret.
"Ah, that is for another veree sadlee reason," answered Otoyo, her voice taking on a mournful note. "You have not heard?"
"No, what?" they demanded, bursting with curiosity.
"Professor Edwin Green, the noble, honorable gentleman of English Literature, he is veree ill. You have not heard such badlee news? Miss Walker, she will announce nothing of jubilee while this poor gentleman lies in his bed so veree, greatlee ill."
"Why, Otoyo," cried Molly, her voice rising above the excited chorus, "is it really true? You mean dangerously ill? What is the matter with him?"