"Meaning to say," broke in Katherine Williams, "that all un-mathematical minds are untruthful——"
"Nothing of the sort," cried Margaret hotly. "I never made any such statement. Did I, girls? I said——"
There was a bumping, tumbling noise in the hall. Judy, the ever-curious, opened the door.
"The trunks are here, Miss," called Mr. Murphy, "and sorry we are to lose you, the old woman and I."
"Thank you, Mr. Murphy," answered Molly.
"Well, for the love of Mike," cried Judy, turning around and facing Molly. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not talking about anything," answered Molly, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Did you flunk in any of the exams., Molly Brown?" asked Edith in a whisper.
"No," whispered Molly in reply. It was going to be even worse than she had pictured to herself. "No," she repeated. A pulse throbbed in her throat and made her voice sound all tremolo like a beginner's in singing. "I waited to tell you until after mid-years. I'm not going very far away—only to O'Reilly's."
Nance, who had been sitting on the floor with her head against Molly's knee, began softly to weep. It was certainly one of the most desolating experiences of Molly's life.