, and once or twice I was beaten by the swerve." But his
partner, the famous Basque amateur, Mme. Jaureguiberry, was loud in his
praises. "He played like a statesman and a diplomatist," she said. The
Grand Duke MICHAEL was also greatly impressed and made a neat _mot_.
"His fore-hand drives," he said, "were worthy of a driver of a
four-in-hand." Mr. BALFOUR, it should be noted, wore brown tennis shoes
with rubber soles, unlike Sir OLIVER LODGE, who always golfs in white
buckskin boots. His shirt was of some soft material and was marked with
his name on a tape, "A. J. BALFOUR. 6. 1913."

Details of the Game.

Mr. BALFOUR started serving, and the first two games fell to him and his
partner owing to a certain wildness in the returns of Princess Pongo, a
Nigerian lady of remarkable agility who has only been playing tennis for
the last three months, as, owing to the laws of the Hausa tribe, mixed
tennis is strictly forbidden in Nigeria. The Princess was, however, well
backed up by her partner, the Baron von Stosch, an athletic Prussian
with a powerful smash, and after five games all had been called the set
fell to the ex-PREMIER and his partner. In the second set a regrettable
incident occurred, a ball skidding off Mr. BALFOUR's racquet into the
eye of the Grand Duke Uriel, who was acting as umpire. Mr. BALFOUR was
much upset by the _contretemps_, and repeatedly sliced his drive into
the net, remarking, "Dear, dear," on two occasions.

The activity of the Princess Pongo, who wore a tasteful _toque_
surmounted by a stuffed baby gorilla, was much admired, and when the
score was called "one set all," the enthusiasm of the bystanders knew no
bounds. A slight delay was caused by the arrival of a telegram for Mr.
BALFOUR, announcing that, in view of the grave importance of the present
political situation, _The Times_ had been reduced to a penny. This he
perused with deep emotion. On the resumption of the game, however, the
ex-PREMIER at once showed himself to be in his best form. He sclaffed
several beauties past the Baron, nonplussed the Nigerian princess by his
luscious lobs, and finished off the set and match by a wonderful
scoop-stroke which died down like a poached egg.

Early in the set he gave a remarkable proof of his detachment. Just as
the Princess was preparing to serve one of her juiciest undercut
strokes, the tones of a soprano practising her scales rang out from a
neighbouring flat. "Rather sharp, I think," said Mr