A little rippling laugh followed this confession. "No, you had better not strain the truth to that extent. I will forgive you for sticking to your colors and for being so frank about it."
"It is not only because I am a Harvard man that I want to see our crew win," Jack went on with a sort of gulp, "it is also because the most splendid man I ever knew, and one of my best friends, is in the boat. He has been through an awful mill, and deserves to win if ever a man did."
"Indeed?" came the question, perfectly uninterestedly. "And who is that?"
"A man named Rivers. Do you happen to know him?" Rattleton tried to see in the moonlight whether or not there was any more color in her cheek; but he couldn't. Besides, he had enough to do in looking after his own face. He felt cold all over.
"Oh, yes, I know him quite well," she answered, quite carelessly. "Nice fellow."
"He is more than that, he is a hero," declared Jack. "You can hardly form any idea of what that chap has been through this year, and the way he has borne it all is splendid. He has had all sorts of troubles; his governor died; he was blue about his exchequer; and last, and worst of all,"—Jack was glad the moonlight was kind to him also, but looked at his boots, nevertheless,—"I am perfectly certain that he fell in love with some girl and got a facer."
"A what?" exclaimed his listener.
"I beg your pardon—a staggering blow in the face, metaphorical, of course. I have got so in the habit of using slang, that I fear I am not fit to talk to a lady. I beg you will forgive me for bringing such prize-ring language to your ears."
"It is very expressive, at least," she said. "And did Mr. Rivers tell you that he had received a facer?"
"No, no, no," protested Jack, "of course not. I don't know it, I only suspected it from his actions and condition. I don't even know, of course, who the girl is. But whoever she may be, she is making a big mistake. She is throwing away the most magnificent fellow in the world. If she does not amount to anything," he went on slowly, "I am glad she doesn't take him, for Charley ought not to be wasted on her. But if she is the most beautiful, gentle, sweet woman who ever lived, then, by Jove, such a pair ought to be married. And I am sure she must be just that, or else, you know, Rivers would not have fallen in love with her. Don't you think so?"