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"Making up your ethics lectures," suggested Priscilla. "Worse than that." "You haven't been to gym, Patty!" said Georgie. "Goodness, no! I'm not so far gone as that. Well, I'll tell you. I met Professor Cairnsley by the gate and walked in with him, and, if you please, he complimented me on my work in ethics!" "That ought to have been embarrassing," said Georgie. "It was," acknowledged Patty.
As Professor Cairnsley came along the line he was gradually eliciting from the terrified class the superficial points which were more or less common to all philosophers. Patty perceived that her imagination could not help her out, that for once the placid professor was on the war-path, and that Swedenborg, and nothing but Swedenborg, would serve.
The professor, one morning, had been placidly lecturing along on the subject of sensation, and in the course of the lecture had remarked: "It is probable that the individual experiences all the primary sensations during the first few months of infancy, and that in after life there is no such thing as a new sensation." "Professor Cairnsley," Patty piped up, "did you ever shoot the chutes?"
"You'd better not. Professor Cairnsley's fond of him, and is likely to pop a special examination at any moment." "Not Professor Cairnsley," laughed Patty. "He doesn't want to waste the time. He's going to lecture straight on for two weeks nice man; I see it in his eye. What I admire in a professor is a good, steady, plodding disposition that doesn't go in for sensational surprises."
"Thank you," murmured Patty. "I begin to believe you have got a conscience," said Georgie. "An excellent one," said Patty, complacently. "It pays in the end," said Priscilla. "It does," agreed Patty. "Professor Cairnsley said he would explain Swedenborg to me himself, and he invited me over to dinner to-night!" The Elusive Kate Ferris
Owing to the pressure of many interests, Patty's researches into philosophy were not as deep as the intentions of the course, but she had a very good working knowledge, which, in its details, would have astonished Professor Cairnsley could he have got behind the scenes.
The rest of the class, who were not artists, contented themselves with merely lowering their eyes as he looked along the line a method which in Patty's scornful estimation said as plainly as words, "Please don't call on me; I don't know." But with Professor Cairnsley, who taught philosophy, it was more difficult to form a working hypothesis.
Professor Cairnsley began a lecture the next morning which was evidently calculated to extend through the hour, and Patty cast a triumphant glance at Priscilla as she unscrewed the top of her fountain-pen and settled down to work.
"You'll find yourself mistaken some day," warned Priscilla. "No danger, my dear Cassandra. I know Professor Cairnsley, and Professor Cairnsley thinks he knows me; and we just get along together beautifully. I wish there were more like him," Patty added with a sigh.
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