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There were tears in their eyes and little choky sounds in their voices as they kissed and hugged and kissed again. Otoyo at that last meeting gave a present to each of the old crowd. She was smiling bravely, since it is not correct for a young Japanese lady to weep, and she kept reiterating: "I shall mees you, greatlee, muchlee. It will not be the same at Wellington."
"Professor Edwin Green, the noble, honorable gentleman of English Literature, he is veree ill. You have not heard such badlee news? Miss Walker, she will announce nothing of jubilee while this poor gentleman lies in his bed so veree, greatlee ill." "Why, Otoyo," cried Molly, her voice rising above the excited chorus, "is it really true? You mean dangerously ill? What is the matter with him?"
"There will be singing and dancing and feasting greatlee of many days enduring?" asked Otoyo. "It depends on who's doing the enduring," Edith said, smiling. "Wellington will be enduring of greatlee much rejoicing," went on the little Japanese. "For Wellington will give jubilee entertainment for fifty years of birthday, perhaps, maybe."
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