“I think _not_,” he said decidedly, and then as a sudden clapping arose, growing, like a swift moving shower, “There, there they are! The players. That’s the Englishman, that big chap, and this man, this is our man. See how supple he is. He has a great reach. Watch him now.” After that there was no more opportunity to talk personalities and Cornelia was glad that she could just sit still and watch, although with her preoccupied mind she might as well have been at home cooking dinner for all she knew about that tournament. The players came and went like little puppets in a show, the ball flew back and forth, and games and sets were played, but she knew no more about it than if she had not been there. Now and then her eyes furtively stole a glance across the way at the scarlet line on the white. Maxwell had glanced at her curiously several times. Her attitude was one of deep attention. She smiled just as pleasantly when he spoke, but somehow her voice had lost the spring out of it and he could not help thinking she was weary. “Let’s get out of here before the crowd begins to push,” he whispered, as the last set was finished and the antagonists shook hands under fire of the heavy rounds of applause. He guided her out to the car so quickly that they almost escaped the rush, but just within a few paces of the car they came suddenly upon the voluble Dotty and her escort. “Oh, Cousin Artie!” cried Dotty eagerly, “I’ve just been telling Tommy that I knew you would take us over to Overbrook if we could catch you in time. You see we both have a dinner engagement out to Aunt Myra’s and we’ve missed the only train that would get us there in time. You won’t mind will you Miss Cope, Copley, I mean. It isn’t far and you know how cross Aunt Myra gets when any of us are late to an engagement with her, don’t you Artie?” “Not at all!” answered Cornelia coolly as soon as there was opportunity to speak, “my home is right on the way.” Maxwell accepted the situation with what grace he could. Dotty climbed into the front seat when he opened the door for Cornelia. “You can sit back there with Miss Copley, Tommy,” she laughed back at the other two. “I choose front seat. I just _love_ to watch Cousin Arthur drive.”