new phase in the conversation.

"Do you know what time it was when you came in last night?" she says,
shaking a finger at him, whereat John laughingly declares his ignorance,
having failed to take note of it.

"Just a quarter of two."

"Is it possible? Really, I--"

"Now, it would be only justice to myself to tell how I happened to
know. Awaking from sleep with a slight headache, I arose to get my
smelling-salts, and noted the time.

"Just then I heard Aunt Gwen's angelic voice calling down. My first fear
was that Uncle Philander had gone off on some sort of racket, and was
returning in no condition for a gentleman, for which suspicion I humbly
beg his pardon, for he's just as lovely as a man ever could be."

"A fine little fellow, I'll declare, and he stood by me like a hero,"
declares John, with great earnestness.

"Well, I'm a woman, you know, and curious. I poked my head out of the
window, and saw that you were with the professor. Of course, I knew he
was all right, then."

The charming _naivette_ with which she makes this engaging remark almost
takes John's breath away. He feels a mad desire to take her in his arms,
and to call her "you blessed darling," or some other similarly foolish
pet name.