The girls in the laboratory are divided between awe and envy, and Kitty
Reid--poor Kitty! She began by being puzzled, then grew panic stricken.

The first time she noticed--I shall always remember it--was when I came in
from the college one day, still skeptical of change, yet hoping it might
be so.

"Why, you've a new way of doing your hair--no; same old pug--but somehow--
you're looking uncommon fit to-day," she said glancing up from her
drawings.

My heart leaped for joy. It was true then! It was true! But remembering
Miss Coleman, I forced myself to reply as quietly as I could:--

"My genius must be beginning to sprout."

A little later Kitty was in constant mystification.

"How do you do it?" she would demand. "What have you got? Can't you let me
into the secret? I just think you might introduce me to the fairy
godmother."

If I were to tell any one, it would be Kitty, of course. Such a dear
little red-headed angel she would make! But it would not be fair to Prof.
Darmstetter. He is not ready yet. So I can only sham ignorance and joke
with her about milk baths and cold cream and rain water. Now that she has
reached the stage of fright, I have great fun with her.

"The age of miracles has come again," she says a hundred times a day. "I