esa asked, eager to secure
another member for her various clubs, and feeling that the moment was a
convenient one for introducing the subject. "We have a good tennis
club, and ladies can play golf every day but Saturday, on the Links. It
would be so nice if you would join. We have tea every afternoon. The
members take it in turns to provide the cakes."

"How nice!" cried Grizel with a gush. "I adore cakes. I'll join
certainly, if you'll promise I need never play. It bores me so to run
about after balls. I never can catch them, and I don't want to, so why
should I try? Really"--she dropped her chin sententiously--"it's a
waste of time!"

The Vicar's wife saw _her_ opportunity, and grasped it.

"I agree with you, Mrs Beverley. The tendency of the age is to spend
far too much time over games. My husband considers that it is a
national danger. There are so many other things better worth doing!"

"Oh, yes," cried Grizel promptly. "There's bridge." The strain of the
conversation was beginning to tell, and she told herself impatiently
that she would _not_ be "preached."

"Bridge is so comfy; you can sit still, and have a cushion to your back,
and smoke, and talk between the deals. It's quite a good way of getting
through the afternoon. What stakes do you play for here?"

The women in the company who played for money looked at the Vicar's wife
and were silent. Those who did not, felt virtuous, and looked it.

"At our house we make a point of playing for love," Mrs Ritchards
announced. "My husband disapproves of anything in the nature of
gambling. Of course, when one has young people coming in and out, there
_is_ a responsibility. Personally I should object very strongly to
taking another person's money. Don't you feel an awkwardness, Mrs
Beverley--from your own guests?"

"Not a bit. I love it!" declared Grizel naughtily. "But I hate to
lose. I hope someone will be wicked enough to play for money with me.
I suppose there _are_ some wicked people in the neighbourhood?"

"They do at the Court. I go up there sometimes. Lady Cassandra loves
bridge," Teresa said with a pride which overcame shyness. Was she not
the only girl in Chumley who could boast of anything like intimacy with
the big house? She watched her hostess' face for a brightening of
interest, and felt aggrieved when it failed to appear.

"That's good. I'm glad there's someone. I must ask her about it," said
Grizel nonchalantly, ta