An hour later two players approached the first tee. They were Elsie and Pip. Now the nerves of both these young people, although neither of them would have admitted it, were tightly strung up by reason of the present situation. Each side (as they say in the election reports) was confident of success, but their reasons for confidence were widely dissimilar. Pip meant to win, because in his opinion the only way to gain a woman's affection is to show yourself her master at something. If he had moved in another class of society he would have subdued his beloved with a poker or a boot, and she on the whole would have respected him for it: being a sportsman, he preferred to use a golf-club. Elsie meant to win for a different reason. To begin with, her spirit rebelled against the idea of becoming the captive of Pip's bow and spear. She might or she might not intend to marry him,--that was her own secret,--but she had not the slightest intention of marrying him because he beat her at golf. Obviously, the first thing to do was to beat _him_; then the situation would be in her hands and she could dictate her own terms. What those terms were to be she had not quite settled. All she knew was that Pip, if he were to have her at all, should have her as a favour and not as a right. Consequently the lust of battle was upon them both; and it was with undisguised chagrin that they found three couples awaiting their turn at the first tee. To be kept back through the green is irritating enough under any circumstances, but when you are engaged in a life-and-death struggle for the matrimonial stakes, absolute freedom of action is essential. Instinctively Pip and Elsie turned and looked at each other in dismay. Then Pip said-- "Let's tramp out to the turn, and we'll play the last nine holes first. It will come to the same thing in the end." Elsie agreed, and they set off together across the links in the direction of the ninth hole. They had no caddies, for each felt that on this occasion witnesses were impossible. Pip, indeed, offered to carry Elsie's clubs as well as his own, but he was met with a very curt refusal. "Nonsense! You would always be hammering your own ball a hundred yards away in a bunker, while I was waiting for my mashie." The rain had ceased, and a watery sun shone down upon them. There was no wind, and the conditions for golf were almost perfect. The greens had become a trifle fiery during the recent drought, and the morning's rain had stiffened them finely. Presently they found themselves on the tenth tee. "You drive first," said Pip. Elsie began to tee her ball. "It's the last time you'll have the chance," he continued. Elsie picked up her ball. "For that," she remarked, "you shall drive first. I am not going to take any favours from a duffer." Pip rose from the tee-box on which he was sitting and took her ball from her hand. Then he stooped down and teed it carefully. "Ladies first," he remarked briefly.