Papa----" she pauses suddenly, and tears rush to her dark eyes.
"Yes.

What of your father ?" asks the professor hurriedly, the tears raising terror in his soul.
"You knew him--speak to me of him," says she, a little tremulously.
"I knew him well indeed.

He was very good to me, when--when I was younger.

I was very fond of him." "He was good to everyone," says Miss Wynter, staring hard at the professor.

It is occurring to her that this grave sedate man with his glasses could never have been younger.