“Pretty far gone, that’s a fact,” Howard rejoined, and then continued:  “I say, Jack, we’d better not talk of Miss Smith before the Colonel.  It will only rouse him up, and make him swear at normal graduates in general, and this one in particular.  You know I wrote you that he gave the lot and built the school-house, and for years was inspector of Crompton schools,—­boss and all hands,—­till a new generation came up and shelved him.  He fought hard, but had to give in to young blood and modern ideas.  He had no voice in hiring Miss Smith,—­was not consulted.  His choice was a Ruby Ann Patrick, a perfect Amazon of an old maid; weighs two hundred, I believe, and rides a wheel.  You ought to see her.  But then she is rooted and grounded, and uncle does not think Miss Smith is, though she was pretty well grounded last night when she sat on that sand heap with her foot twisted under her.  I’m not a soft head like you, to fall in love with her at first sight; but I’m awfully sorry for her, and I don’t wish to hear the Colonel swear about her.”

Jack had never seen Howard more in earnest, and his mental comment was, “Cares more for her than I supposed.  He’ll bear watching.  Poor little girl!  How white she was at times, and how tired her eyes looked; and bright, too, as stars.  I wonder if she really ought not to have a doctor.”

He put this question to Howard, who replied:  “No, that Biggs woman is a full team on sprained ankles.  She’ll get her up without a doctor, and I don’t suppose the girl has much to spend on the craft.”

“Yes, but what is a little money to you or me, if she really needs a doctor?” Jack said thoughtfully, while Howard laughed and answered, “Don’t be an idiot, and lose your heart to a schoolma’am because she happened to have had her arm around your neck when we carried her in that chair.  I can feel it yet, and sometimes put up my hand when half awake to see if it isn’t there, but I am not going to make a fool of myself.”

As they were near home Jack did not reply, but he could have told of times when half awake and wide awake he felt the arms and the hands and the hot breath of the girl clinging to him in the darkness and rain, and saw the eyes full of pain and dumb entreaty not to hurt her more than they could help, as they cut the soaked boot from the swollen foot.  But he said nothing, and, when the house was reached, went at once to his own room, wondering what he could do to make her more comfortable.

Acting upon Howard’s advice, Eloise was not mentioned, either at lunch or at dinner.  Amy had evidently forgotten her, for she made no inquiry for her.  Neither did the Colonel.  She was, however, much in the minds of the young men, and each was wondering how he could best serve her.  Howard thought of a sea chair, in which his uncle had crossed the ocean.  He had found it covered with dust in the attic, and brought it to his room to lounge in.  It would be far more comfortable for Eloise