Elithe replied that she didn’t play tennis, and didn’t know the young people. “Come and know them, then,” Paul said. “No matter if you don’t play. Plenty of them sit round and look on.” He was very urgent and persuasive and at last, encouraged by her aunt, who was nearly as anxious for her to be seen in her new feathers as Paul, she concluded to go if she were not too tired after supper. CHAPTER XX. AT THE TENNIS COURT. She was not too tired. Her aunt took care of that, and made her rest while she prepared supper. “I want you to be fresh and to hold your own with them,” she said, happy that Elithe was at last to be introduced into society as represented by the tennis club. It was very select. Not every one could gain admittance, as one “No” rejected the applicant, whoever he or she might be. Any member, however, could bring a friend, and no objections made. Paul was the president of the club, while Clarice was the prime mover of its exclusiveness. Paul had wished to take Elithe there before, thinking she must be lonely, knowing so few young people as she did. Clarice, to whom he proposed it, vetoed it at once. “She wouldn’t enjoy it,” she said. “She don’t play. She knows none of the members. None of them know her, and besides that, you don’t want her feelings hurt. That old flannel she wears incessantly would be out of place among the gay dresses of the young ladies who might laugh at her.” “Not if they were ladies,” Paul answered, quickly, wondering why clothes should make so much difference with women. He didn’t care whether a fellow’s coat were old or new, if he liked the fellow, but he gave up the idea of taking Elithe to the club until he suggested it again on her return from Boston. Nothing could be more _en regle_ than her attire, and Miss Hansford looked after her with pride, as she walked down the path with Paul and turned into the avenue. “Carries herself like a duchess. Nobody’d know but what she’d lived in a city all her life,” she thought, wondering how Clarice would receive her. Clarice was not in a humor to receive any one very cordially. She had just had a letter from Jack which annoyed her exceedingly, and she was anxious to show it to Paul. He was usually early at the court, and, with Jack’s letter in her pocket, she waited for him to come, declining to play and seeming very much out of sorts. All the élite of the club were there, and two or three games were in progress when Paul at last turned the corner with Elithe.