"Vantage out," said Harry, who was serving. Beatrice returned the ball high, and very far back-indeed, and immediately cried-- "I think it was just in!" "I think _not_," said Harry, grinning. "How was it, umpire?" "Line ball!" said Kavanagh, who from his position could not possibly have seen. "Game and set!" cried Trix, delighted, though as a matter of fact the ball had fallen a foot beyond the base line, and they both came to the tree for a rest. "I hope you will be able to play yourself soon," said Harry Forsyth. "I could play now," replied Kavanagh; "my side does not hurt me a bit whatever I do. It is only weakness that stops me, and I feel stronger every morning." "Then we shall have a four set without recourse to neighbours when Mary Strachan arrives," said Beatrice. "Mary Strachan! Is she coming?" cried Kavanagh. "Yes; mamma asked her, and she is to arrive early next week." "That _will_ be jolly! We only want Tom too." "I don't despair of seeing _him_ before the autumn," said Harry. "I heard from him yesterday, and he thought he should come home when the Guards did. And if we kiss and make it up with the various folks we are at loggerheads with, I don't think there will be much more fighting for you military parties to do." "Who do you mean?" asked Kavanagh. "I am not a military person. I have got my discharge, sir, and might pass the commander-in-chief himself without saluting. Not that I would though, God bless him." "Is it not time that you had your jelly and glass of port wine?" observed Mrs Forsyth. "Not quite," said Harry; "Fatima would not let him miss it by a minute. I believe she sits watching the clock, now she has learned what the figures mean, and why the hands go round." "That is right; speak up for your slave," said Beatrice. "Any imputation upon her punctuality might depreciate her market value." "I would not sell her for her weight in gold, and that must be something towards settling the National Debt," said Harry. "She nursed me back into life, I know." "I can never repay her," murmured Mrs Forsyth. At that moment the object of conversation appeared with a tray in her hand, and a broad smile on her honest black face. She was robed in white, with a red shawl and a yellow handkerchief round her head. They had tried to put her into a print gown and a mob cap, but she looked so queer and was so uncomfortable that they let her choose her own costume. Nursing was certainly her strong point, and she tended Kavanagh as carefully as if he had been a baby. Only she always thought it cold, and wanted to smother him with wraps. It was no use resisting, so he had to put them away quietly when her back was turned. "I shall have apoplexy if I am convalescent long," said Kavanagh, swallowing the last spoonful of his jelly. "I am eating and drinking good things the whole day long." "But think of the privations you have to make up for," said Mrs Forsyth.