"Well, I know a little sister when I see one," replied the lad; "and though she may want to drive a motor-car, she's all right, for all that," and Jack rather awkwardly slipped his arm around his sister's waist again, for she did seem a "little sister" to him, even if she was considered quite a young lady by others. "Girls coming up to-night?" asked Jack after a pause, during which they both had been silently admiring the car and its graceful lines. "I don't know," replied Cora. "They haven't heard about my new auto, or they'd be sure to come." "Let's run over and tell them," proposed Jack. Cora thought for a moment. She had plans for the evening, but they did not include Jack. She said finally: "I have to write a few letters--acknowledging some birthday gifts. Don't wait for me if you intend to go over to Walter's. You might call at the Robinsons', however, to fetch me; say at half-past nine." "Oh, then I'm not to see Bess or Belle--or--well, there are plenty of other girls just as keen on ice cream sodas as those mentioned," and he pretended to leave the room, as if his feelings had been hurt. "Now; you know, Jack, I always want you with me, but--" "But just to-night you don't. All right, little sister. After me running that machine up from the garage for you, and not even scraping the tires; after me--even kissing you! Fie! fie! little girl. Some day you may want another machine--or a kiss--" "Children, children," called Mrs. Kimball, "are you coming to dinner? And are you going to put that machine in the shed before dark, Jack?" "Both--both, mum! We were just discussing a discussion about the--the machine, girls and ice cream sodas." "What nonsense!" exclaimed his mother with a laugh. "Come to dinner, do. But, Jack, run the machine in first, please." The car was put under a shed attached to the barn, Cora looking enviously at Jack as he manipulated the levers and wheels, she sitting on the seat beside him, on the short run up the driveway. She would not venture to operate it herself in such cramped quarters. "There!" exclaimed Cora as Jack locked the shed door. "I hope nobody steals it to-night. Did you take out the plug, Jack?" "Here you are," and he handed her the brass affair that formed the connection for the ignition system, and without which the car could not be run. "Put it under your pillow, sis," he added. "Maybe you'll have a gasolene dream." They went into the house, where dinner was waiting for them. The meal was a simple one, although the means of the little family were ample for a most elaborate affair. But Mrs. Kimball preferred the elegance of simplicity. Mrs. Grace Kimball was a wealthy widow, a member of one of the oldest and best known families in Chelton, which was a New England town, not far from the New York boundary. Her husband had been Joseph Kimball, a man of simple tastes and sterling principles. When he had to leave her, with the two children, he said as he was passing away: