“Is that funny?” he said. “If so, I suppose I’d better laugh, though I wish I saw the point. Who said I was going to marry? O gosh, what a clipper she is!” “And it’s not much more than a fortnight ago that you thought all girls were rotten,” said Bags. “More fool me, then, and more fool you for still thinking so. Lord, I wish I was really grown up, quite old, I mean, nineteen or twenty. I say, do you think she looked at me at all in chapel this morning?” “I don’t think so,” said Bags cheerily, “and I was watching her pretty nearly all the time, as I knew you would ask. Oh, yes, she did once, when you began to sing Amen before it was time. But she looked away again at once.” “Ha, ha,” said David in a dry, speaking voice, not laughing at all. “Well, she’s bound to come to the Old Boys’ match, isn’t she? And I don’t see how she can help noticing if I take any wickets.” “Nor if you get constantly hit out of the ground,” said Bags. David found he agreed with this. “You’re a jolly sympathetic sort of pal,” he said at length. Bags had a certain defence. “Well, it seems so queer of you,” he said. “It’s rot if you’re going to think about and talk about nothing else than a female girl. Besides, she must be frightfully old. I shouldn’t wonder if she was twenty. Why, your mother had been married three years when she was as old as that.” “Yes, and had had two children and had also died,” said David rather embarrassingly. “Oh, sorry; I didn’t know,” said Bags. “But about your girl now,” he went on hurriedly. “How do you know she isn’t engaged already? She easily might be; she’s awfully pretty. I grant you that: at least, I suppose she is, though both you and I used to think that all girls looked exactly alike.” “Idiots! Idiots we were!” said David, kicking wildly in the air. “And what are you going to do?” continued Bags, who always saw the practical issues. “Are you going to tell her how frightfully keen you are on her!” “I expect she guesses,” said David solemnly. “She came to tea with me twice in my study, and it’s rather marked for a fellow to ask a don’s daughter to tea twice in the same half, specially if she comes the first time.” “Well, but you didn’t say anything sweet and moonlightly to her,” said Bags. “You talked about nothing but cricket. Besides, Plugs and I were there the whole time, and so was Mother Gray.” David drew a long breath, and stretched his arms and legs out in the form of one crucified till elbows and knees were taut. “Violet Gray!” he said, dwelling on the syllables. “Did you ever hear such a jolly name? And it’s just like her; it’s a slim, honey-coloured-hair name.” Bags groaned slightly. It really was appalling for David to be in this deplorable state. “Violet Gray,” he said, in a business-like manner. “H’m, Violet Gray! I think it sounds better than Violet Blaize.” David sat up.