But somehow all was not well with his cricket. He had been tried against the M.C.C. and had not been a success. His chief rival, Honeyburn of Trinity, had been tried against Yorkshire, and had been a failure. The University captain had been reduced to experimenting with a lob-bowler, and such a creature had been tried against an England Eleven a week before. But though he had taken two good wickets they had cost forty-four runs apiece; and his further services had been dispensed with. So the last place was still unsettled. Pip, knowing that University captains very seldom go back to their first loves, had little hope of being chosen, though he had a good college record. Most probably the captain, rendered desperate, would fall back on some well-tried friend of his own on whom he could rely to a certain, if limited, extent; or else--horror of horrors!--bring up some last year's Blue, dug out of an office or a public school, and so blight the last faint pretensions of all those gentlemen who were still hoping to be chosen, if only in the humble rôle of a _pis aller_. It was now Wednesday, and Cambridge was to play Oxford at Lord's on the following Monday. Pip was a phlegmatic youth, but the knowledge that Cayley, the Cambridge captain, who was Mrs. Blane's nephew, would probably be at the garden-party, gave him a vague feeling of unrest. Perhaps Cayley had not made up his mind yet; perhaps the proverb about "out of sight out of mind" was capable of working negatively; perhaps-- "Do you imagine you are entertaining me?" inquired a cold voice at his side. Pip started guiltily. "I had forgotten you were there," he said. "I thought you had," said Miss Innes composedly. Pip smiled at her in his most friendly and disarming fashion. "Very rude of me," he continued: "I'm sorry. The fact is, I never can think of things to say to people." "Why not tell me what has been going on in your mind all this time?" suggested the girl. "That would be something." "Oh, that was only cricket," said Pip. "I thought so. You were wondering if you were going to get your Blue." Pip turned and regarded this discerning young person with increasing interest. "How did you guess that?" "Well, it was not very difficult. I should be too, if I were in your place. The papers are quite full of it. 'The Sportsman' says--" "Do you read 'The Sportsman'?" asked Pip, much softened. "Yes; and of course I read 'The Field' on Saturdays. Now, tell me what you were twisting your left wrist about for?" "Great Scott! Was I?" cried Pip, turning pink. "Yes; and you were skipping about just like you do when you run up to the wicket to bowl." Pip was too perturbed by this information to notice the compliment implied by Miss Innes's familiarity with his bowling action. "I must have looked an ass," he said apologetically. "Bad luck on you, too!" "Oh, I was all right. I walked a yard or two behind. People didn't know I was with you." "Oh!" said Pip, rather sheepishly.