"If I had known I was going to look ridiculous," said John "I shouldn't have played--" He pulled out the top of the trousers. "'The expanse of spirit in a waist of shame,' that's what I look like." "Don't be rude, Scissors--you know my figure fills you with envy. Jove, I do hate playing this game with women. Those kids have no idea how to use a racquet. They'll just stand and squeak every time they miss a ball by a yard, and you're expected to say 'Hard luck.'" "Can Mrs. Graham play?" "Yes, she can make Tod work. If Alice and Kitty were at home we'd get a good set. I say, Scissors, do you mind playing with Polly?" "No--but why?" "Because if I play with her and lose, as I shall, she'll be quite huffy, whereas if she plays against me and wins, she'll be quite nice to me," explained Vernley. "But what about Muriel?" "Oh--that doesn't matter. Nothing will dim you in Muriel's eyes." John bent over and tied his shoes. "How do you mean?" he asked without looking up. "Well, you're on a pedestal that six-love can't damage. You know you did talk brilliantly at lunch. I don't know how you do it." "But I was listening to Mrs. Graham." "And she to you--why, together you held the table, and old Ribble kept persuading you both to go on." "I hope I didn't talk too--" began John. "You old fraud, you were both soaring and you knew it. You like it, Scissors. I've seen you take the platform before." "Rot!" commented John, a little angry at being discovered. V When the tea bell rang, four red-faced youngsters trooped in to find the Reverend Crimp mid-way in a monologue on the woes of the Dodenesian Islanders. On the appearance of the tennis party, he put down his cup very deliberately, rose from the comfortable depths of the divan, folded his puffy hands and beamed upon the young people. "I think you know John," said Mrs. Vernley. "Ah, yes," began Mr. Crimp in a minor key. "Of course I know John. I have a delightful memory of our last meeting. How d'ye do? I perceive you have grown. Fresh air, eh, and good food, I am sure. It is a true maxim, early to bed, early to rise--" "Not much good food at Sedley, Mr. Crimp," said Bobbie. "We always go to bed hungry." "I'm sure," commented Mr. Ribble from a corner seat, "your remarks are libellous; they are certainly belied by your figure." "That's what I tell Bobbie," cried Muriel, "but he says the cause of stoutness is atmospheric, not gastronomic." A few minutes later the drawing room door abruptly opened and Tod entered, followed by Mrs. Graham and Mr. Vernley. "Any tea left, Mother?" he cried. "Mrs. Graham has led us all the way. Jove, she took the last hole in four!" Then, seeing the clergyman, "Good afternoon, Mr. Crimp." Mr. Vernley crossed the room and shook hands with him, while Tod was just about to draw up a chair for Mrs. Graham when Mr. Vernley said, "I do not think you have met Mrs. Graham, Mr. Crimp?"--and turning--"this is Mr. Crimp, our clergyman, Mrs. Graham."