“How do,” returned Cal, walking toward her with unflattering deliberation. “I thought you couldn’t come.” “I know, but I feared you’d feel so bad about it,” she laughed, “that I just made them let me. Aren’t you terribly glad to see me?”
“Yes,” answered Cal without much enthusiasm. “How—how did you manage?”
“Oh, I just kept at it. Aunt Lydia was on my side and she told Aunt Matilda that she guessed you wouldn’t eat me if I was to come over here. I’ve been calling on Mrs. Linn. She’s a dear, isn’t she?”
“Er—yes.” He was looking at the racket with strange fascination and Molly, following his glance, smiled brightly and held it out for his inspection.
“I bought it this morning. Is it a good one?”
[251]
“I think so. I don’t know much about tennis rackets. Ned can tell you. He will be here in a moment; the others, too. Did you—do you want to play today?”
“Yes, if it isn’t too late. I’ve been here a long time, but I suppose you have all been playing football.”
“Yes, we had a pretty stiff practice and I cal’late we’re rather too tired to—”
But at this moment the others came around the corner, Hoop, arm in arm with Sandy and Spud, scowling ferociously and evincing a desire to escape. If Cal expected evidences of embarrassment on the part of the girl he was disappointed. She only smiled interestedly.
“You’ll have to introduce me, Cal,” she whispered.
Cal had never done such a thing in his life, but he managed to get through with the task in some manner, Spud, claiming the privileges of former acquaintance, helping him out.
“And this,” said Spud finally, “is Mr. Hooper, who has eagerly volunteered to teach you tennis, Miss—er—Curtis, while here in the background, modest youth that he is, hides Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker is our football guide and wishes me to offer his services to you.”
[252]
Hoop growled something under his breath that didn’t sound especially flattering to Spud, but Clara walked up and shook hands very nicely. Molly bowed and said “How do you do,” or shook hands and said “I’m very glad to meet you” at each presentation, and the boys, grinning, seated themselves on the steps and frankly looked her over. She didn’t seem very formidable with her pink cheeks and blue eyes, and it was difficult to realize that she figuratively held their welfare in the small hands that gripped her tennis racket.
“I suppose,” she said to Sandy, “that Cal has told you that I want awfully to learn to play tennis? He said he didn’t play very well but that he thought one of you would find time to show me a little about it. Do you mind my coming over here?”
Sandy proved traitor on the spot.
“Of course not,” he declared heartily. “I guess any of us will be glad to play with you. I suppose it’s a bit dull over there with just the Old—I mean with just your aunts.”
Spud snickered and Sandy frowned at him.
“Awfully,” agreed Molly. “I thought it was very nice of Cal to want me to come over here. And I’m glad you don’t mind.”
[253]
Hoop surreptitiously kicked Cal in the small of the back.
“We don’t mind at all,” said Spud. “We’re tickled. I guess there’s time for a lesson now if you start right away. You’d better get your racket and some balls, Hoop.”
“I’m tired,” muttered Hoop, casting mutinous eyes around the group.
“Miss Molly understands that,” said Ned. “She’ll forgive you if you’re not at your best, I’m sure.”
But Molly was viewing Hoop doubtfully.
“I guess he doesn’t want to,” she said, turning to Sandy. “I’ll come some other time.”
“I’ll give you a lesson myself,” declared Sandy, jumping up. “Find my racket for me, will you, Clara? And bring some balls out.”
“Why do you call him Clara?” asked Molly as the boy hurried inside on his errand.
“Because his name’s Claire,” answered Dutch.
“What a funny name for a boy! And what’s yours?”
“Dutch.”
Molly laughed and went around the group, nodding her head at each in turn.
“Spud.”
[254]
“Just Ned.”
“Sandy.”
“The Fungus.”
“Hooper.”
“He means Hoop.”
“And you are Cal,” she said, reaching that youth.
“Short for Calamity,” explained Spud gravely.
“Isn’t he quick?” sneered Hoop, still resentful.
“Quickest thing ever,” answered Spud affably. “Lightning is cold molasses beside me. That’s where I get my name, you know,” he added, turning to Molly. “Ex-spud-itious.”
The boys groaned, but Molly laughed appreciatively.
“I suppose,” she said, “I’ll get you all terribly mixed up at first, and I hope you won’t mind.”
“We never mind,” declared Dutch quite flippantly for him. He received his reward from Molly in the shape of a smile and for some time after secretly rather fancied himself as a wit.
“My name,” she announced, “is Molly. I[255] guess you’d better call me that, if we are going to be friends.”
Clara returned with the racket and she and Sandy proceeded to the tennis court, the others politely electing to watch from a distance so as not to embarrass the novice.
“She’s a funny one,” observed The Fungus with a grin. “‘If we are going to be friends,’ said she. She knows mighty well we don’t dare be anything else!”
“She’s a good sort,” said Spud. “And I guess we might as well make up our minds to enjoying what they call female society after this. Did you see Sandy fall for her on the spot?”
“Conceited idiot!” growled Hoop. “I hope he falls into the net and—and—”
“Chokes to death,” added Spud helpfully. “Remarks of that sort from you, Hoop, are sadly out of place. You are a—a renegade.”
“That’s all right. I didn’t agree to give her tennis lessons.”
“Do I really have to take her to watch football?” asked Clara.
“Of course you do,” Dutch said severely. “Don’t you want to?”
“I suppose so,” answered the boy.
[256]
“Seems to me,” observed The Fungus, “that our diplomat isn’t on to his job. Are you—diplomating, Ned?”
“Sure thing. Diplomacy is brain-work. I’m thinking.”
“Don’t see why we gave the job to you, then,” muttered Hoop. “What we ought to do is to find where she keeps that pillow-case and go over and nab it.”
“Huh,” Dutch grunted, “I’d like to see anyone go prowling around where Miss Matilda would catch him.”
“Pshaw, what’s the good of bothering about that old pillow-case?” asked Spud impatiently. “She isn’t going to be mean. She’s just having a little fun with us. Look at Sandy, fellows; isn’t he having one grand good time?”
Sandy was toiling valiantly, chasing balls on all sides of the court. Molly’s efforts were ludicrous and pathetic, and for a time she couldn’t get it into her little head that there was any method to the game beside batting the balls back and forth. The supper bell brought welcome relief to her instructor, although he made believe that he simply hated the thought of stopping.
[257]
 
Sandy was toiling valiantly, chasing balls on all sides of the court
[258-
259]
“You did finely,” he declared as they returned to the porch. “All you need is a few more lessons.”
“That’s silly,” answered Molly promptly. “I know very well that I was just as stupid as stupid! I’m going to buy one of those little blue books with the rules in them the first thing in the morning. Then I’ll know what it’s all about. Thank you very much for teach............