But just as she came within sight of the Lab she had to stop, for there was little Tiddles, walking solemnly along by herself, not seeming to mind for once that she was near the Professor's lair, and crying, not aloud as the babies did usually, but with the tears rolling slowly down her tiny cheeks. In spite of her hurry Joey had to try and comfort the poor mite. "What is it, darling?" Tiddles looked mournfully at her. "They won't let me go this afternoon," she said, with a sob. "They say Tiddles has a cold; but it will make her cold more ill to stay at home." "Oh poor Tiddles!" sympathised Joey. "What frightfully hard lines. But I'll tell you all about it afterwards, darling; and it is a long drive, you know, quite nine miles, and it gets awfully cold in the late afternoon." "You could cuddle Tiddles tight in your arms, Jo-ey; then she would not catch cold," Tiddles declared. "But I'm not going with the brakes, duckie, so I couldn't hold you," Joey said. "You are going to stay at home and play with Tiddles?" asked the mite, with dawning hope. Joey shook her head, though she felt very unkind. "No, pet; but I'll tell you everything--Honour! and play with you to-morrow instead." "Won't you play with her now, Jo-ey?" Tiddles pleaded. She had a quaint way of speaking, as though she were a personality quite distinct from the Tiddles whom the College petted and treated as a baby. "I can't, darling; I have to go in there," Joey nodded in the direction of the Lab. "And you must let me go now, for I have to be busy." Tiddles let go of her hand without a word, and stood looking after her with brimming eyes, but without actually crying. Joey felt a brute to leave her like that, but it had to be done. It was already nearly ten minutes past twelve; the Professor would be waiting for her. He was. She saw that directly he unlocked the door to her, as quickly as though he had been standing just inside. His face was less impassive than usual, and it had a slightly yellowish look, while the eyes upon which Gabrielle had commented were strained. But the face relaxed a little at the sight of Joey. "You are late! I feared you would not come," he said. "I'm so sorry; I just got kept by poor little Tiddles--she was crying," Joey explained. She did not wait to tell him why; the Professor did not care for children, and would not want to know she thought. "Ah, de Belgian baby dat fear me," said the Professor, showing his teeth in a curious smile. "It is a strange idea you schoolgirls have of me, _n'est-ce pas_? To one I am an expert signaller--to another a fierce ogre." "We all think you were frightfully decent though to square it with Miss Conyngham," Joey said, with conviction. "Do you know we are all going to the match--all the school! It's never been known before." "Yes, I know dat," the Professor said. "You all go, mistresses and all at 1.15; except for you."