ron
ruffled for battle. It was not in human nature that the girl should
not recall the slight offered her the previous evening. With the
thought came the temptation to repay it now with interest; but she
thrust it aside.

"Yes, that is my name," she said, smiling pleasantly.

"Well--er--the General has asked me to--er--invite you take part in
some of our tournaments. We have tennis, you know, an' golf, an'
croquet, an' that sort of thing. Of course, you play tennis, an' I
rather fancy you're a golfer as well. You look that kind of girl--Eh,
what?"

He caressed a small mustache as he spoke, using the finger and thumb
of each hand alternately, and Helen noticed that his hands were
surprisingly large when compared with his otherwise fragile frame.

"Who is the General?" she inquired.

"Oh, Wragg, you know. He looks after everything in the amusement line,
an' I help. Do let me put you down for the singles an' mixed doubles.
None of the women here can play for nuts, an' I haven't got a partner
yet for the doubles. I've been waitin' for someone like you to turn
up."

"You have not remained long in suspense," she could not help saying.
"You are Mr. Vavasour, are you not?"

"Yes, better known as Georgie."

"And you arrived in Maloja last evening, I think. Well, I do play
tennis, or rather, I used to play fairly well some years ago----"

"By gad! just what I thought. Go slow in your practice games, Miss
Wynton, an' you'll have a rippin' handicap."

"Would that be quite honest?" said Helen, lifting her steadfast brown
eyes to meet his somewhat too free scrutiny.

"Honest? Rather! You wait till you see the old guard pullin' out a bit
when they settle down to real business. But the General is up to their
little dodges. He knows their form like a book, an' he gets every one
of 'em shaken out by the first round--Eh, what?"

"The arrangement seems to be ideal if one is friendly with the
General," said Helen.

Vavasour drew up a chair. He also drew up the ends of his trousers,
thus revealing that the Pomeranian brown and myrtle green stripes in
his necktie were faithfully reproduced in his socks, while these
master tints were thoughtfully developed in the subdominant hues of
his clothes and boots.

"By Jove! what a stroke of luck I should have got hold of you first!"
he chuckled. "I'm pretty good at the net, Miss Wynton. If we manage
things properly, we ought to have the mixed doubles a gift with plus
half forty, an