"Why not?"
His look became serious.
"Because I cannot. I do not think it best,—and—and I will not"
Another pause.
"Ivy, do you not like your teacher?"
"No, Sir. I hate you!"
The words seemed to flash from her lips. She sprang up and stood erect before him, her eyes on fire, and every nerve quivering with intense excitement He was shocked and startled. It was a new phase of her character,—a new revelation. He, too, arose, and walked to the window. If Ivy could have seen the workings of his face, there would have been a revelation to her also. But she was too highly excited to notice anything. He came back to her and spoke in a low voice,—
"Ivy, this is too much. This I did not expect."
He laid his hand upon her head as he had often done before. She shook it off passionately.
"Yes, I hate you. I hate you, because"—