"
Miss Trix went slowly upstairs, and there is not the least doubt
that something serious passed between her and her mother, for
both of them were in the most atrocious of humors that evening.
Fortunately, the curate was not there; he had a Bible class.
The next day Lord Newhaven arrived. I found him on the lawn when
I strolled up, after a spell of letter-writing, about four
o'clock. Lawn tennis was the order of the day, and we were
all in flannels.
"Oh, here's Mark!" cried Dora, seeing me. "Now, Mark, you and
Mr. Ives had better play against Trix and Lord Newhaven. That'll
make a very good set."
"No, no, Mrs. Polton," said Jack Ives. "They wouldn't have a
chance. Look here, I'll play with Miss Queenborough against Lord
Newhaven and Wynne."
Newhaven--whose appearance, by the way, though hardly
distinguished, was not quite so unornamental as the curate had
led us to expect--looked slightly displeased, but Jack gave him
no time for remonstrance. He whisked Trix off and began to serve
all in a moment. I had a vision of Lady Queenborough approaching
from the house with face aghast. The set went on; and, owing
entirely to Newhaven's absurd chivalry in sending all the balls
to Jack Ives instead of following the well-known maxim to "pound
away at the lady," they beat us. Jack wiped his brow,
strolled up to the tea table with Trix, and remarked in exultant
tones:
"We make a perfect couple, Miss Queenborough; we ought never to
be separated.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81