The folding doors closed on father and daughter, and Chester was left balancing himself on the edge of a chair.
Mildred's father had a rumbling voice that now and then penetrated the folding doors and Chester caught the words "whippersnapper" and "callow." He heard, too, Mildred's small, high voice, protesting. She was in tears.
Presently Mildred reappeared, lacrimose. "Oh, that nasty, horrid Miss Shufelt," she burst out.
"What has she done?" asked Chester.
"The nasty old cat asked Dad to stop in to see her to-night on his way home from the office, and she told him the awfulest things about me."
"She did?" Chester's voice was rich with loathing. "I just wish I had her here, that's all I wish," he added fiercely.
"She said," went on Mildred, with fresh sobs, "she said—I—was—boy—c-c-crazy. And—I—never—studied—and——"
"Darn that woman!" cried Chester.
"And Dad's—going—to—send—me—to—S-Simpson Hall!"