There was a nice leathery smell in the atmosphere of book bindings mingled with tobacco smoke, and the only ornament she could discover, except a small bronze bust of Voltaire and a life mask of Keats, was a glazed paper weight in the very cerulean blue she herself was so fond of. It caught the fading light from the window and shone forth from the desk like a bit of blue sky.
Molly was sitting in a high back leather chair, which quite hid her from Judith Blount, who presently, knocking on the door and opening it at the same moment, entered the room like a hurricane.
"Cousin Edwin, may I come in? I want to ask you something——"
"I can't possibly see you now, Judith. You must wait until to-morrow. I'm very busy."
"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed the girl and banged the door as she departed into the corridor.
What a jarring element she was in all that peaceful stillness! The muffled noises in the Quadrangle seemed a hundred miles away. Molly rose and tiptoed to the door.
"He'll be angrier than ever if he should find me here," she thought. "I'll just get out quietly and explain some other time."
Her hand was already on the doorknob when the Professor wheeled around and faced her.
"Why, Miss Brown," he exclaimed, "was it you all the time? I might have known my clumsy brother couldn't have been so quiet."
"Please excuse me," faltered Molly. "I am sure you are very busy. I am awfully sorry to have disturbed you."