"You _can't!"_ gasps the professor, "you must go back to Miss
Majendie at once!"

"To _her!_ I'm not going back," steadily. "And even if I would,"
triumphantly, "I couldn't. As she sleeps at the top of the house (to
get _air,_ she says), and so does her maid, you might ring until you
were black in the face, and she wouldn't hear you."

"Well! you can't stay here!" says the professor, getting off the
table and addressing her with a truly noble attempt at sternness.

"Why can't I?" There is some indignation in her tone. "There's lots
of room here, isn't there?"

"There is _no_ room!" says the professor. This is the literal truth.
"The house is full. And--and there are only men here."

"So much the better!" says Perpetua, with a little frown and a great
deal of meaning. "I'm tired of women--they're horrid. You're always
kind to me--at least," with a glance, "you always used to be, and
_you're _a man! Tell one of your servants to make me up a room
somewhere."

"There isn't one," says the professor.

"Oh! nonsense," says she, leaning back in her chair and yawning
softly. "I'm not so big that you can't put me away somewhere. _That
woman_ says I'm so small that I'll never be a grown-up girl, because
I can't grow up any more. Who'd live with a woman like that? And I