The august Professor then wrote two other letters; one to a firm of bankers and one to his publishers. At last, getting into an old dressing gown and some very rusty slippers, lighting a long, black cigar and drawing his student's lamp nearer, he took an immense roll of manuscript from a drawer and fell to work. It was three o'clock before he turned in for three hours of troubled sleep.
CHAPTER VIII.
A JAPANESE SPREAD.
One morning every girl at Queen's discovered by her plate at the breakfast table a strange rice paper document some twelve inches in length and very narrow as to width, rolled compactly on a small stick.
"What's this?" demanded Margaret Wakefield, unrolling her scroll and regarding it with the legal eye of an attorney perusing documentary evidence.
Across the top of the scroll swung a gay little row of Japanese lanterns done in delicate water colors, and in characters strangely Japanese was inscribed the following invitation:
"Greetings from
Otoyo Sen:
Your honorable
presence is
requested on
Saturday evening
at the insignificant fête
in the unworthily
apartment of
Otoyo Sen.
Otoyo muchly
flattered by
joyful acceptance."
Fortunately, the little Japanese girl, overcome by shyness after this rash venture, had not appeared at breakfast and was spared the mirthful expressions on the faces of the girls around the table.
"Well, of all the funny children," laughed Molly. "Nance, let's offer her our room. She can't get the crowd into her little place."
"Of course," said Nance, agreeable to anything her roommate might suggest.