The morning passed so quickly that both of them were surprised when the gong sounded. After luncheon Waveney was told to go out and amuse herself until tea-time, and she spent a delightful afternoon rambling over the common, with Fuss and Fury frolicking beside her. The little terriers evidently regarded her as a new playmate, and were on the friendliest terms with her. On going up to her room to dress for dinner, which was always an hour earlier on Thursdays, she noticed a group of girls in the verandah of the Porch House. Some were sitting down, and others standing about with racquets in their hands. Through the open window she could hear merry voices and laughter. Laura Cairns and the other girl were with them. The young housemaid who waited on her volunteered an explanation as she set down the hot-water can. "Those are the young ladies from the Dereham shops, ma'am. It is early closing-day with most of them, and they come up early to play tennis." Althea looked amused when Waveney repeated this speech. "They are young ladies to Dorcas," she said, laughing. "But, indeed, some of these girls are so intelligent, and so truly refined, that one need not grudge them the term. One or two of them would grace any drawing-room; but, of course, we have our dressy smart girls, too. By the bye, Waveney, do you play tennis?" And as Waveney shook her head, "I thought not. The houses in Cleveland Terrace have only small gardens, and you would have no opportunity of practising; but I am a devout believer in tennis." "Mollie and I always longed to play," returned Waveney, with a sigh. "But, of course, it was out of the question for Mollie." "Yes, but it is quite possible for you, and if you like, Nora Greenwell will teach you; she is our crack player. Even my sister, who is severely critical, allows that she makes wonderful strokes; eh, Dorrie?" "She plays exceedingly well," returned Doreen, looking up from a scrap-book she was making for a children's hospital. "But then, Miss Greenwell does everything well. She is to take Rosalind's part to-night, is she not?" Althea winced slightly as Doreen asked the question. To her dying day she would never hear Rosalind's part read or acted, without secret emotion. She had dreaded this evening ever since the play of _As You Like It_ was decided upon, but none the less she had determined to be present. "Yes," she returned, rather hastily, "of course, Mr. Chaytor selected that part for her, as Nora is certainly our best reader. Minnie Alston will be Celia." And then she turned to Waveney. "They are my two favourites. When my sister wishes to tease me, she calls them my two paragons. And, indeed, I am proud of them. Oddly enough, they serve in the same shop--that big haberdasher--Gardiner & Wells." "Miss Ward has not passed the shop, Althea. She has yet to make acquaintance with Dereham."