Part 3 (1/2)

”A long rest and a change will set him up again in fine style,”

Walter wrote. ”There is no need worrying, Cora,” for he had written to her, rather than to Mrs. Kimball, relying on Cora's discretion to explain matters.

”I am bringing Jack home, and we'll come on the early afternoon train, Thursday. There is no great need of haste.”

It was now Thursday, just after lunch, and the girls were waiting at Cora's house to go down with her, or, rather one of them (to be decided later) to meet Jack and Walter. There was no need of a physician to help Jack home, though Dr. Blake promised his services when the sufferer should have been safely quartered in his own room.

”Isn't it good of Wally to come home with him?” ventured Belle, thoughtfully gazing at her long, thin hands, that were still tanned by the summer's sun.

”Perfectly fine!” exclaimed Cora. ”Oh, you can always depend on Wally,” and her eyes lightened up.

”So you can, too, on Jack, for that matter,” voiced Bess, warmly.

Bess was, of late, generally regarded as having more than a mere chum's sisterly feeling for Jack.

”I suppose he'll lose a term,” remarked Belle.

”Too bad, I say.”

”Better that than lose your health,” declared Cora, as she put back a strand of hair that would persist in straying out from under her cap, for she, as well as the others, were attired for motoring, the Robinson twins, in fact, having come over in their car.

”Oh, Cora! I think you look so different with your hair in that new close formation!” declared Bess. ”I wish I could get mine to lie down flat at the sides, and over my ears. How do you do it?”

”Whisper--it's a secret,” said Cora, smiling. ”I found a new kind of hairpin when I was shopping the other day.”

”Oh, do show us!” begged Belle. ”I was going to have the permanent wave put in mine, but it costs twenty-five dollars, and it's awfully tiring, Hazel said. Besides, I think it's getting rather--common.”

”Do show us, Cora!” begged Bess.

”Come inside. I'm not going to turn the porch into a hair-dressing parlor for demonstrations,” laughed Cora. ”It won't take a minute to show you how to do I it, and we have plenty of time before Jack's train is due.”

Cora obligingly let down her pretty hair, and then, by means of the new hairpins, she put it up again, in the latest ”flat” mode, which, with its rather severe lines, is far from becoming to the average face. But, as it happened, Cora's face was not the average, and the different style was distinctly becoming to her.

”Oh, isn't it simple--when you're shown?” cried Bess. ”I wonder if I'd have time to do mine that way before--?”

”Before Wally sees you!” interrupted her sister. ”No, and don't think it. He's probably seen plenty of that style at college, and--”

”Thank you! I wasn't thinking of Mr. Pennington!” and Bess tried to tilt her chin up in the air with an a.s.sumption of dignity that ill sat upon her, the said chin being of the plump variety which lends itself but poorly to the said tilting.

”Cora, are you there?” asked the voice of Mrs. Kimball from the porch.

”Yes, Mother. I was just showing the girls the new hairpins. We are going to the station directly.”

Cora's voice floated out of the low French windows, which opened from the library to the porch, and they were swung wide, for the fall tang in the air had vanished with the rising of the orb of day, and it was now warm and balmy.

”It will be even warmer than this when we go to the West Indies,”

murmured Bess. ”Oh, Cora, I do wish you were going!”

”So do I, dear! But I don't see how I can.”