"Should you call her hair red, Mrs. Murphy?" asked the Professor irrelevantly.
"It's more red than anything else, sir, especially when the weather's damp."
"And what color should you say her eyes were, Mrs. Murphy?"
"An' you've not seen her eyes, surely, sir, if you can be askin' me that question. They're as blue—as blue, sir, like the skies in summer."
The Professor blinked his own brown eyes very thoughtfully.
"Well, good day, Mrs. Murphy, I must be off. Do you think you and Miss Sen together can manage things?"
"We can, surely," said Mrs. Murphy. "She's as neat and quick a little body as I've seen this side the Atlantic."
"My sister gets here at noon. Good day," and the Professor was off, around the house, and across the campus, before Mrs. Murphy could take breath to continue her conversation.
In the meantime, Molly was hastening through the pine woods to a grove where she had once seen some holly bushes. In the pocket of her sweater were a pair of scissors and a penknife.
"We must have a little holiday decoration, Otoyo and I," she said to herself. "And it's lots nicer to gather it than buy it at the grocery store. I suppose my box from home will reach here to-night. I'll ask Mr. and Mrs. Murphy up to-morrow and give a party. There'll be turkey in it, of course, and plum cake and blackberry cordial—it won't be such a bad Christmas. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy are dears—I must do up their presents this afternoon. I hope Otoyo will like the little book. She'll be interested to know that Professor Green wrote it."