"Oh," the professor remarked, with a slight smile of amusement; "so Margaret Savage is stupid. But why didn't your mother ask me herself?"
"Perhaps she was afraid to," Sally said quietly. "I don't know what the reason was."
"But you think it was that she was afraid to." The smile on his face changed imperceptibly. The change made it a sneer. It is astonishing to see how much a slight change can accomplish. "Perhaps you know why she was afraid?"
"Yes," Sally acknowledged, "perhaps I do."
"Well, would you be good enough to give me the benefit of your ideas on that subject?"
Sally flushed a little, but she did not falter in the directness of her gaze any more than in her speech. "You generally make her cry when she asks you for anything."
The professor flushed in his turn. "Indeed!" said he. "A most observing child! A very observing child, indeed. And so your mother sent you in her place."
"She didn't," said Sally impassively, although with a rising color; "she doesn't know anything about my coming."
"Oh!" remarked the professor reflectively. "So you came on your own hook—off your own bat."
She nodded.