All during dinner Ruth watched Marjorie’s ever increasing popularity with a sense of irritation. And after the party adjourned to the porch the talk was of nothing but the experiences of her hated rival.

“Are you too tired to go to the dance tonight, Marjorie?” asked John Hadley, with concern.

Marjorie smiled peacefully; it was so pleasant just to be able to do as she pleased. She settled herself comfortably in the cushioned wicker chair, and half closed her eyes in contentment.

“No, thanks, John; I believe I’ll stay right here tonight, and rest. For I want to take part in the meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Ruth frowned unconsciously; already she saw her chance of winning the cup, and with it the prestige the victory would carry, vanishing from her grasp. She longed so much to be included among the intimate friends of the Trowbridge girls, and to be interesting to Griffith Hunter. Thus far, she had made no progress; not a single boy, except Harold, had shown her any attention. She might194 almost as well have remained at home. Marjorie, absent or present, was always the center of interest. Making a great effort to conceal her annoyance, she glanced at the group about her in the hope that John, or Jack,—or anyone except Harold—might invite her to accompany him to the dance.

But John Hadley’s next remark dispelled any such hope as far as he was concerned.

“I believe I’ll stay at home then,” he declared. “I guess I’m pretty tired, too. How about you, Wilkinson?”

“Me for bed!” exclaimed Jack, with feeling.

The groups began to talk among themselves, and in a moment Ruth found her ever-present admirer at her side.

“Will you go with me tonight?” whispered Harold.

The girl glanced at the landscape in front of her, the lovely lawn, the feathery trees, and the moon just beginning to peep through them. What a night! If only there were some way to succeed in obtaining Griffith Hunter as her partner. But the young man had not put in an appearance since the morning, and in all probability he intended to take one of the Trowbridge girls. So Ruth sighed, and decided to accept the only invitation she was likely to secure.

“Boys and girls!” said Mrs. Andrews, abruptly interrupting the general buzz of conversation in all parts of the veranda, “Will you please make up your195 minds about the tennis matches, and let Mr. Andrews know by tomorrow afternoon? The preliminaries are to be played off Thursday and Friday morning, and the finals Friday afternoon.”

“What tennis matches?” cried Marjorie, in delight. She had heard nothing of the tournament up to that time.

“I guess Mr. Andrews had better tell you all about it,” replied the hostess. “He understands the game better than I do.”

“All right,” said her husband, “but there isn’t much to explain. We thought we’d keep it a mixed doubles match, so everyone may choose their own partner. You are privileged to take someone of our party, or a friend from Silvertown. But let me have the entries by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Suppose a boy chooses a girl who has already chosen another boy before?” asked Ruth. “What then?”

“Well, I think it would be best for the boys to do the asking—just as you do at a dance,” put in Mrs. Andrews. “But any boy who doesn’t want to ask a girl may just hand his name in to Mrs. Andrews. And likewise a girl who isn’t asked by any one in particular, will be provided with a partner.”

“What fun!” cried Marjorie. “Oh, I do wish I were a better player.”

Ruth said nothing; she knew that her chances of winning were good, could she but obtain a skillful196 partner. Harold played rather well, but not remarkably. It was Ruth’s dream to take the whole match without losing a single set, to come off with such a spectacular victory that her triumph would dull the brilliancy of any success Marjorie might win in the canoe meet. For Ruth had often beaten Marjorie in singles; and there was hardly another girl to fear among the scouts.

Before long the groups began to disappear from the porch and stroll along the winding driveway in twos and fours towards the club house. Mr. Remington and Miss Phillips chaperoned the dancers, while Mr. and Mrs. Andrews remained at home with Marjorie and Frieda, and three or four of the boys. Ruth and Harold were the last to leave.

“Ruth, may I stay and play the tennis match with you?” he asked as soon as they were out of hearing distance from the porch.

“Don’t you think, Harold, that it’s imposing on the Andrews to stay so long?” Ruth returned, a little sharply. “That would keep you here till Saturday, you know!”

Harold wrinkled his forehead. What did Ruth mean by suddenly becoming so solicitous about her hostess’s wishes?

“But I was invited!”

“Well, for my part, I wouldn’t want to be under such obligations to total strangers. But, of course, if you don’t mind——”

197 “Ruth!” He took her arm in an effort to make her walk more slowly. “You don’t want me to stay!”

“Don’t hold my arm, Harold,” she said, pulling it away. “It’s so conspicuous.”

“It isn’t fair, Ruth, that you should treat me so coolly. Just look what I’ve done for you—bribed, and lied, and——”

“That’s it! Tell me how much it has cost you!” snapped the girl. “Rub it in, all you like!”

“Oh, please!” his voice was hurt, reproving. “How can you say such things?”

“I’m sorry, Harold,” she apologized, softening her tone, and putting her arm through his. “You did a lot, and risked all sorts of dangers—but after all, you failed. And a miss is as good as a mile, you know. In fact, I think the whole thing did more harm than good, for Marjorie is more of a h............