“And do you mean to tell me it was out?” “It was--I do,” stammered the youth. “You heard what Mr. Slade said.” “I don’t care what Mr. Slade said. I appeal to you against the most absurd decision ever heard or given on a tennis-field.” “And I support Mr. Slade,” replied the referee. “Oh, very well!” said Grace, with sudden quietness. “Come,” he whispered to his two lieutenants, “let’s get out of this. They’ll take our watches next!” And the three slowly made their way to the club-house. They helped Grace into his other clothes and packed up his tennis-flannels for him. He was very quiet and seemed more concerned about his ankle than over the loss of the State championship. Grace and his two supporters were so long in getting to the station, no one having offered Grace a carriage, that he missed his train. He was very much annoyed, for he was anxious to shake the dust of Hilltown from his feet, and he was more than anxious about his ankle. “Mr. Grace,” said Merton, “Prior and I were wondering if you would think we were presuming on our short acquaintance if we asked you to come home with us to Malvern. You can’t get back to college to-night from here, and Malvern is only ten miles off. My father is a doctor and could tell you what you ought to do about your ankle, and we would be very much pleased if you would stay with us.” “Yes, indeed, we would, Mr. Grace,” echoed the younger lad. “Why, it’s very kind of you; you’re very good indeed!” stammered Grace; “but I am afraid your family are hardly prepared to receive patients at all hours, and to have the house turned into a hospital.” Merton protested with dignity that he had asked Grace as a guest, not as a patient; and they finally compromised upon Grace’s consenting to go on to Malvern, but insisting on going to the hotel. Grace had not been at the Malvern Hotel, which was the only one in the place, and more of an inn than a hotel, for over ten minutes before Dr. Merton arrived in an open carriage and carried him off, whether he would or no, to his own house, where, after the ankle was dressed, Grace was promptly put to bed. In the morning, much to his surprise, he found that the swelling had almost entirely disappeared, and he was allowed in consequence to come down to the breakfast-table with the family, where he sat with his foot propped up on a chair. He was considered a very distinguished invalid and found it hard not to pose as a celebrity in the cross-fire of admiring glances from the younger Merton boys and the deferential questions of their equally young sisters. After breakfast, he was assisted out on to the lawn and placed in a comfortable wicker chair under a tree, where he could read his book or watch the boys play tennis, as he pleased. The tennis was so well worth watching that after regarding it critically for half an hour he suddenly pounded the arm of his chair and called excitedly for the boys to come to him. They ran up in some alarm.