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I saw Ysonde colour-a soft faint tint, nothing more; I saw Billy receive a gentle impulse-oh, very gentle indeed, from the point of her slender tennis shoes. So the porcupine was hustled up the balsam-tree, where he lay like an old mat, untidy, mortified, nursing his wrath, while two blue-birds tittered among the branches above him.

Ysonde came back and stood in the game court.

"It is vantage, I believe," she said, indifferently.

"Out," said I, with significance. Ysonde looked at me.

"Out," I repeated.

"Play," she said, desperately.

"No," I replied, sitting down upon the edge of my racquet again-I knew better-"let us clearly understand the consequences first."

She swung her racquet and looked me full in the eyes.

"What consequences?" she said.

"The consequences incident upon my winning this set."

"What consequences?" she insisted, defiantly. "The forfeit," said I.

"When you win the set we will discuss that," she said. "Do you imagine you will win?"

She was a better player than I; she could give me thirty on each game.

"Yes," I said, and I believe the misery in my voice would have moved a tigress to pity.

Now perhaps it was because there is nothing of the tigress about Ysonde, perhaps because I showed my fear of her-I don't know which—but I saw her scarlet lips press one upon the other, and I saw her eyes darken like violet velvet at night.

"Play," she said; "I am ready."

The first ball struck the net; the racquet turned in my nerveless hand, and she smiled.

"Play!" I cried, and the second ball bit the lime dust at her feet. I saw the flash of her racquet, I saw a streak of gray lightning, and I lifted my racquet, but something struck me in the face, the tennis-balls were heavy and wet, -and I staggered about blindly, faint with pain.

"Oh, Bobby!" cried Ysonde, and stood quite still.

"I'm a duffer," I muttered, trying to open my eye, but the pain sickened me. I placed my hand over it and looked out upon the world with one eye. The drab-coloured cow was watching me; she was chewing her cud; the porcupine had one sardonic eye fixed upon me; the robin, balanced on the tip of the balsam, mocked me. It was plain that the creatures were all on her side. The wild snow-birds scarcely moved as Ysonde hastened across the court to my side. I heard the blue-birds tittering over head, but I did not care; I had heard the tones of Ysonde's voice, and I was glad that I had been banged in the

eye. It was true she had only said, "Oh, Bobby!"

"Is it very painful?" she asked, standing close beside me.

"Yes," I replied, seriously.

"Let me look," she said, laying one hand on the sleeve of my cricket shirt.

"Billy will rejoice at this," said I, removing my handkerchief so she could see the eyes. The pain was becoming intense. With my uninjured eye I could see how white her hand was.

She stood still a moment; my arm grew warm beneath her hand.

"It will cheer Billy," I suggested; "did I tell you that he bit me yesterday and I whacked him? No? Well, he did, and I did."

How can you!" she murmured; "how can you speak of that ridiculous Billy when you may have-have to be blind?"

"Nonsense," I said, with a shiver.

She crossed the turf to the spring and brought her handkerchief back soaking and cold as ice. I felt her palm on my cheek as she adjusted it. It was smooth, like an apricot.

"Hold it there," I said, bribing my conscience; "it is very pleasant." She thought I meant the wet handkerchief.

"If-if I have ruined your sight": she began. Now it was on the tip of my tongue to add"and yet you are going to ruin my life by beating me at tennis," but my conscience revolted.

"Do you think it is serious?" she asked, in a voice so low that I bent my head involuntarily. She mistook the gesture for one of silent acquiescence. A tear-a large warm one-fell on my wrist; I thought it was a drop of water from the handkerchief at first. Then I opened my uninjured eye and saw her mistake.

"You misunderstood," I said, wearily. "I don't believe what the oculist told me; the eye will be all right."

"But he warned you that a sudden blow would'


"Oh-did he say might?"

"Yes-but it won't. I'm all right-don't take away your hand; are you tired?"

"No, no," she said, "shall I get some fresh water?"

"Not yet-don't go. The game was at deuce, was n't it?"

Ysonde was silent.

Was it deuce? Does that point count against me?" I insisted.

How can you think of the game now?" said Ysonde, in a queer voice-like the note of a very young bird.

I sat down on the turf, and the handkerchief fell from my eye. Ysonde hastened to the spring and returned carrying the heavy stone jar full of water. It must have strained her delicate wrist -she said it did not; and, kneeling beside me,

she placed the cold bit of cambric over my


" I said;

will you

"Thank you, sit beside me on the turf?" Both of my eyes were aching and closed, but I heard her skirts rustle and felt the momentary pressure of her palm on my cheek. "Are you seated?" I asked.

"Yes, Bobby."

"Then tell me whether I lost that point." "How can I tell," she answered; "I would willingly concede it if it were not

"For the forfeit," I added; "then you think I did lose the point?"

66 Does your eye pain very much?" she asked. "Yes," said I, truthfully. Perhaps it was ungenerous, but I dared not reject such an ally as truth. I opened one eye and looked at Ysonde. She was examining a buttercup.

'All buttercups look as though they had been carefully varnished," said she, touching one with the tip of her middle finger.

"Did I win the set?" I began again.

Oh-no-not the set!" she protested.
Then I lost that point?"

Oh! why will you dwell upon tennis at such a moment!"

Because," said I, "it means so much to me." I suppose there was something in my voice that frightened her.

"Forgive me," I said, bitterly ashamed, for I had broken our compact, not directly, but in sub

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