I couldn't tell him--proud as I am of it--that John had loved me before I
ever heard of the Bacillus. But I could punish his gibes.

"Oh, by the way--I'm not coming to-morrow," I said. "My Aunt is to give a
tea."

Strange to see him struggle with his disappointment like a grieving child!
But he bravely rallied.

"T'at is goot," he said, "you shall tell me v'at people t'ink of you. You
vish to go about--to be admired; you vish to gif up science; not so?"

"Oh, no! I couldn't be a doll, for men to look at and then tire of me. I
must study the harder--to be worthy--"

The look of his face, of the thin, straight-lipped mouth, the keen old
eyes, stopped me.

"You vill not gif up study now, at least," he sneered; "not until you haf
t'e perfect beauty. You haf need of me."

Prof. Darmstetter is so irritating! Why, he has just as much need of me!
He himself said I was the best subject he could find for the experiment.
But even if he had finished his work with the Bacillus, he'd rather teach
me, a despised woman, all the science I could master than develop the
budding talent of the brightest Columbia boy. The sight of my beauty is a
joy to him. Really, I pity the poor man. He makes the great discovery when
he's himself too old to profit by it; the Bacillus will not work against
Nature. It has brought him only a hopeless longing--