"It need only just begin to build one," pleaded Miss Atherley, "because Mother's going up town by your train to-morrow. As soon as she's out of the house the bird can go back to anywhere else it likes better." "I will put that to any bird I see to-day," I said, "but I am doubtful." "Oh, well," sighed Miss Atherley, "never mind." * * * * * "What do you think?" cried Mrs. Atherley as she came in to breakfast next day. "There's a bird been nesting in the plantation!" Miss Atherley looked at me in undisguised admiration. I looked quite surprised--I know I did. "Well, well!" I said. "You must come out afterwards and see the nest and tell me what bird it is. There are three eggs in it. I am afraid I don't know much about these things." "I'm glad," I said thankfully. "I mean, I shall be glad to." We went out eagerly after breakfast. On about the only tree in the plantation with a fork to it a nest balanced precariously. It had in it three pale-blue eggs splotched with light-brown. It appeared to be a black-bird's nest with another egg or two to come. "It's been very quick about it," said Miss Atherley. "Of our feathered bipeds," I said, frowning at her, "the blackbird is notoriously the most hasty." "Isn't it lovely?" said Mrs. Atherley. She was still talking about it as she climbed into the trap which was to take us to the station. "One moment," I said, "I've forgotten something." I dashed into the house and out by a side door, and then sprinted for the plantation. I took the nest from the weeping and overweighted ash and put it carefully back in the hedge by the tennis-lawn. Then I returned more leisurely to the house. If ever you want a job of landscape-gardening thoroughly well done, you can always rely upon me. XXV. PAT-BALL "You'll play tennis?" said my hostess absently. "That's right. Let me introduce you to Miss--er--um." "Oh, we've met before," smiled Miss--I've forgotten the name again now. "Thank you," I said gratefully. I thought it was extremely nice of her to remember me. Probably I had spilt lemonade over her at a dance, and in some way the incident had fixed itself in her mind. We do these little things, you know, and think nothing of them at the moment, but all the time---- "Smooth," said a voice. I looked up and found that a pair of opponents had mysteriously appeared, and that my partner was leading the way on to the court. "I'll take the right-hand side, if you don't mind," she announced. "Oh, and what about apologising?" she went on. "Shall we do it after every stroke, or at the end of each game, or when we say good-bye, or never? I get so tired of saying 'sorry.'" "Oh, but we shan't want to apologise; I'm sure we're going to get on beautifully together." "I suppose you've played a lot this summer?" "No, not at all yet, but I'm feeling rather strong, and I've got a new racquet. One way and another, I expect to play a very powerful game."