Georgie was nowhere in the good little putting-match, and he was even less anywhere when it came to their game in the afternoon. Lucia made magnificent swipes from the tee, the least of which, if she happened to hit it, must have gone well over a hundred yards, whereas Daisy considered eighty yards from the tee a most respectable shot, and was positively pleased if she went into a bunker at a greater distance than that, and said the bunker ought to be put further off for the sake of the longer hitters. And when Lucia came near the green, she gave a smart little dig with her mashie, and, when this remarkable stroke came off, though she certainly hit the ground, the ball went beautifully, whereas when Daisy hit the ground the ball didn’t go at all. All the time she was light-hearted and talkative, and even up to the moment of striking, would be saying “Now oo naughty ickle ball: Lucia’s going to give you such a spank!” whereas when Daisy was playing, her opponent and the caddies had all to be dumb and turned to stone, while she drew a long breath and waved her club with a pendulum-like movement over the ball. “But you’re marvellous,” said Georgie as, three down, he stood on the fourth tee, and watched Lucia’s ball sail away over a sheep that looked quite small in the distance. “It’s only three weeks or so since you began to play at all. You are clever! I believe you’d nearly beat Daisy.” “Georgie, I’m afraid you’re a flatterer,” said Lucia. “Now give your ball a good bang, and then there’s something I want to talk to you about.” “Let’s see; it’s slow back, isn’t it?” said Georgie. “Or is it quick back? I believe Daisy says sometimes one and sometimes the other.” Daisy and Piggy, starting before them, were playing in a parallel and opposite direction. Daisy had no luck with her first shot, and very little with her second. Lucia just got out of the way of her third and Daisy hurried by them. “Such a slice!” she said. “How are you getting on, Lucia? How many have you played to get there?” “One at present, dear,” said Lucia. “But isn’t it difficult?” Daisy’s face fell. “One?” she said. Lucia kissed her hand. “That’s all,” she said. “And has Georgie told you that I’ll manage about Pug for you?” Daisy looked round severely. She had begun to address her ball and nobody must talk. Lucia watched Daisy do it again, and rejoined Georgie who was in a “tarsome” place, and tufts of grass flew in the air. “Georgie, I had a little talk with Mr. Stratton the other day,” she said. “There’s a new golf-committee being elected in October, and they would so like to have you on it. Now be good-natured and say you will.” Georgie had no intention of saying anything else.