question.

'Will you excuse me?' he observed the next moment, rather hurriedly; 'I
think Mrs. Charrington is waiting for me--she asked me to go to the
school-house to tea.'

And as he left her, Audrey found herself obliged to join her sister and
Mrs. Harcourt.

'Have you many people coming to you to-morrow afternoon?' asked
Geraldine, as they walked on together.

'Only the Luptons and Fortescues and Mr. Owen and Herr Schaffmann--oh,
and--I forgot, father asked Mr. Blake.'

Audrey spoke a little absently. They were passing the Gray Cottage--a
blind was just then raised in one of the lower rooms, and a small pale
face peeped eagerly out at the passers-by. Audrey smiled and waved her
hand in a friendly manner, and a bright answering smile lighted up the
girlish face.

'What an untidy-looking child!' remarked Geraldine carelessly; 'is that
your _protegee_?' and then she continued, in a reproving tone: 'It is
really disgraceful that none of the family were in chapel. Edith was
right when she spoke of Mrs. Blake's mismanagement of her children; that
poor girl had a most neglected look.'

Audrey did not answer; she thought it wiser to allow her sister's remark
to pass unchallenged; she had a shrewd suspicion why Mollie was not in
chapel--the shabby, outgrown frock had probably kept her at home.

'Poor little thing!' she thought, with a fresh access of pity, for
Mollie had certainly looked very forlorn. And then she turned her
attention with some difficulty to what Geraldine was saying.

Dr. Ross was famed for his hospitality, and both he and his wife loved
to gather the young people of Rutherford about them.

On Monday afternoons during the summer there was always tennis on the
Woodcote lawn; one or two of the families from the Hill houses, and
perhaps a bachelor master or two, made up a couple of sets. The elder
ladies liked to watch the game or to stroll about the beautiful
grounds. Mrs. Ross was an excellent hostess; she loved to prepare little
surprises for her guests--iced drinks or strawberries and cream.
Geraldine generally presided at her mother's tea-table; Audrey would be
among the players. Tennis-parties and garden-parties of all kinds were
common enough in Rutherford, but those at Woodcote certainly carried off
the palm.

Mr. Harcourt had always been considered one of the best players, but on
the Monday in question he found himself ranged against no mean
antagonist, and he was obliged to own that you