The tennis-courts were kept to perfection in the Gray Garden, and all the lasses and boys of Northbury were rejoiced when an invitation came to them to test their skill at a tournament here. There was no girl in Northbury more popular than Beatrice. This popularity was unsought. It came to her because she was gracious and affectionate, of a generous nature, above petty slanders, petty gossips, petty desires. Life had always been rich and plentiful for her, she possessed abundant health, excellent spirits, and a sunny temper not easily ruffled; she was sympathetic, too, and although, in mind and nature she was many steps above the girls with whom she associated, she was really unconscious of this difference and gave herself no superior airs. A companion who would have been her equal, whose intellect would have sharpened hers, whose spirit would have matched her own, whose refinement would have delighted and whose affection would have been something to revel in, she had never hitherto known. Unconscious of her loss she had not deplored it. It was not until she and Catherine Bertram had flashed a look of delight and sympathy at one another that she first felt stirring within her breast the wings of a new desire. For the first time she felt unsatisfied and incomplete. She scarcely knew that she thirsted for Catherine, but this was so. Catherine awakened all sorts of new emotions in her heart. She had spent a delightful day with the Bertrams, and hurried home now in the highest spirits. In the High Street she met three girls, whose names were Matty, Alice, and Sophy Bell. Their father was a retired coal merchant. There was scarcely any active trade down in Northbury, almost all the inhabitants having retired to live there on their fortunes. The Bells were small, rather thickly-made girls, with round faces and round eyes. They always dressed alike, and one was never seen without the other two. They generally walked through the streets with their arms linked, and each one echoed the sentiments of the other, so that the effect produced was a sense of medley and multiplicity. To such an extent was this felt that the three girls were spoken of by the wits of the town as the "four-and-twenty Miss Bells." They adored Beatrice, and bore down upon her now in a neat phalanx. "Delighted to see you, Bee!" exclaimed Matty. "Delighted!" echoed Alice. "Lighted!" exclaimed Sophy. "Where have you been?" began Matty, again. Beatrice told. While she spoke, three pairs of lips were raised for a salute. People kissed in the streets or anywhere at Northbury. "You were with those Bertrams! Those _rude_ Bertrams! Oh, fascinating--" "Fascinating--" "Nating," burst from the three. "Tell us about them, darling!" exclaimed one. "Tell us!" said the other. "--Us"--gasped the third.