“I’m not going to play with you, Harry Armstrong,” she said, “because you poach too much. Nor with you, Dick, because you’re so slow—you always reach the ball a second too late, and it’s bad for my nerves. And Basil Whitehead won’t be serious enough. I guess I’ll play with you, Bob,” and she nodded to a shock-headed schoolboy of about fourteen, all arms and legs, and feet. “How just jolly, thundering fine!” he exclaimed excitedly. “You are a brick, Paddy; we’ll knock them into a cocked hat, won’t we!” “You know the other girls here are such awful sillies,” he remarked to her confidentially, as they walked toward a vacant court. “A fellow can’t have half a good time with a set like this. They’re no better than a pack of schoolgirls,” and he turned up his snub nose contemptuously. “Oh, well, of course! when a ‘man-about-town’ like you comes along,” said Paddy, “we all feel horribly countrified and shy and awkward. It’s only natural, living away out here among the mountains.” “I suppose so,” said Bob, hesitatingly, not quite sure whether she was laughing at him or not. “Still,” brightening up, “they might be more like you if they tried. You know I think you’re just an awfully jolly girl,” he finished with great condescension. Paddy made him a mock bow. “I’m sure I feel highly honoured,” she said, “but you mustn’t tell the other girls, or they’d be frightfully jealous, and hate me like anything.” “Well, you needn’t mind that,” he replied stoutly. “I’ll look after you, and settle them pretty quick if they’re cheeky.” “That’s all right, then. Let’s set to work and win this set, because I have an important engagement directly after tea.” Bob’s face fell a little at this, but he quickly decided to make the best of the prevailing good, and not worry about what came next. But Paddy did not get away quite so quickly as she had intended, as Kitty Irvine came and pulled her on one side to tell her an important piece of news in confidence. “Have you seen him?” she exclaimed in an eager undertone. “Isn’t he perfectly scrumptious?” “Seen who!” asked Paddy in bewilderment—“Who’s perfectly scrumptious?” “Why, Colonel Masterman’s nephew, of course. You must have heard about him?” “The Mastermans at Carlingford?” still unenlightened. “Yes, Colonel Masterman has a nephew come to stay with them, from London. Fancy you not knowing!” “Well, I think I did hear Jack say something about it; but I had quite forgotten. When did he come?” “Only yesterday, but he was in Newry this morning, and bought a picture post-card at the same time that I did.” “Ump!” expressively. “I loathe picture post-cards. He must be a nincompoop, if he actually buys them.” “Not at all,” asserted Kitty. “He’s probably going to send them home. He’s not exactly handsome, but he has got the loveliest smile, and such a nice voice.”