I was, of course, as a batsman and an opponent, particularly anxious to obtain a private view of her celebrated bowling. And the specimen she did send down, said as clearly as possible that report had not overpraised her prowess. There was a mastery, an ease, and a combination of qualities therein that said here was a born bowler. Hers, as has been remarked, was an Alfred Shaw style of action, only that in accordance with the modern theory she brought her arm as high over as she could possibly get it. She was decidedly slow, but possessed the necessary and fatal “nip,” and to see the ball curl one way from her hand, and then the moment it dropped quickly twist in the opposite direction was, to a batsman who had got to face it presently, little short of alarming. “Why,” I cried, “why, Grace, your bowling’s perfectly magnificent!” “Oh no, Dimmy, it’s not,” said Grace. “It’s quite common or garden. If I’d got a bit more pace now it might do things. But with more pace I can’t get the break, and that’s what makes me so sick. The Guv’nor could, you know. He was a bowler if you like. I’ve bowled at Biffin for hours an’ hours, yet if I begin to try medium the ‘work’ don’t act.” My tutor uttered this in a tragic tone. “I don’t care what your pace is,” said I, carried away by her beautiful delivery, her perfect length, her “nip,” her “devil,” her break, and, above all, her parent’s curl in the air, which was an undoubted case of heredity, “but your bowling’s magnificent.” “Oh, rot!” said Grace. “It ought to be faster.” “It’s perfectly magnificent,” said I. “Oh, rot!” said Grace again. “Do you think I don’t know when bowling’s real A 1? Too slow for a quick-footed bat. He’s got time to get out and hit me most horrid. Didn’t you see Archie lift me clean over that jolly old tent. Wasn’t it a smasher? I did feel prickly. I’d kept ’em _so_ short, and as soon as I did pitch one up a bit that’s how he served me.” “By Jove!” said I; “that’s what I’ll do. It’s not quite my game, you know, but I’m hanged if I don’t go out and hit you.” “Oh, you will,” said the enemy, with a gleam in her eye. “We’ll see about that. Rectory rules, you know, and lots of fielders.” Judged in this light, my new scheme was not quite so good as it at first appeared. “We _are_ a pair of jays, aren’t we,” said Grace, with amazing friendliness. “Here we’ve both gone and given ourselves away. You’ve shown me all about your stuff, and I’ve shown you all about mine.” “Yes,” I said, “we’ve certainly exposed our hands. Rather a joke. But I never thought about it at all.”