The players crossed over, Garth rather white beneath his tan. He was beyond words vexed with himself for failing in his service, at that critical juncture. Not that he minded losing the set; but it seemed to him it must be patent to the whole crowd, that it was the sight, out of the tail of his eye, of a tall grey figure moving quietly along the line of chairs, which for a moment or two set earth and sky whirling, and made a confused blur of net and lines. As a matter of fact, only one of the onlookers connected Garth's loss of the game with Jane's arrival, and she was the lovely girl, seated exactly opposite the net, with whom he exchanged a smile and a word as he crossed to the other side of the court. The last set proved the most exciting of the three. Nine hard-fought games, five to Garth, four to Ronnie. And now Ronnie was serving, and fighting hard to make it games-all. Over and over enthusiastic partisans of both shouted "Deuce!" and then when Garth had won the "vantage," a slashing over-hand service from Ronnie beat him, and it was "deuce" again. "Don't it make one giddy?" said Mrs. Parker Bangs to Billy, who reclined on the sward at her feet. "I should say it has gone on long enough. And they must both be wanting their tea. It would have been kind in Mr. Dalmain to have let that ball pass, anyway." "Yes, wouldn't it?" said Billy earnestly. "But you see, Dal is not naturally kind. Now, if I had been playing against Ronnie, I should have let those over-hand balls of his pass long ago." "I am sure you would," said Mrs. Parker Bangs, approvingly; while Jane leaned over, at Myra's request, and pinched Billy. Slash went Ronnie's racket. "Deuce! deuce!" shouted half a dozen voices. "They shouldn't say that," remarked Mrs. Parker Bangs, "even if they are mad about it." Billy hugged his knees, delightedly; looking up at her with an expression of seraphic innocence. "No. Isn't it sad?" he murmured. "I never say naughty words when I play. I always say 'Game love.' It sounds so much nicer, I think." Jane pinched again, but Billy's rapt gaze at Mrs. Parker Bangs continued. "Billy," said Myra sternly, "go into the hall and fetch my scarlet sunshade. Yes, I dare say you WILL miss the finish," she added in a stern whisper, as he leaned over her chair, remonstrating; "but you richly deserve it." "I have made up my mind what to ask, dear queen," whispered Billy as he returned, breathless, three minutes later and laid the parasol in Lady Ingleby's lap. "You promised me anything, up to the half of your kingdom. I will have the head of Mrs. Parker Bangs in a charger." "Oh, shut up, Billy!" exclaimed Jane, "and get out of the light! We missed that last stroke. What is the score?" Once again it was Garth's vantage, and once again Ronnie's arm swung high for an untakable smasher. "Play up, Dal!" cried a voice, amid the general hubbub.