"Well, Spanish then," admitted Cora.
"And she's so pretty!" put in Bess.
"Pretty! I suppose you'll be at home this evening, Jack, old chap?" asked Walter, pretending to straighten his tie, and arrange his hair.
"Is her name Carmencita or Marita?" he asked.
"We don't know, yet," Cora informed him. "The poor child wasn't able to tell us much about herself."
"Child!" exclaimed Jack. "Oh, then she's a little girl! The Mater always was great on infant classes."
"Wait until you see," advised Belle, loftily.
"You make me very curious!" mocked the invalided young man. "Drive on, Cora, and let's get the suspense over with."
Walter slipped in beside his chum, and put his arm about Jack's waist, for the wrench given Jack's side in a football scrimmage was far from healed, and often pained him severely. It was this direct cause, as much as anything else, that had pulled him down.
On the way to the Kimball home, Cora driving slowly and with careful regard for Jack's weakness, the sufferer told how he had "keeled over" in a faint, while playing the last half of a hard game, and how the team physician had insisted on his being sent home.