, started off ahead of the others to see if the tennis
ground was occupied. As he turned the corner, he met Dora Robson with a
racket in her hand.

"Oh," she cried, "here you are! I was just coming after you, for Amy and
I have got to go in,--mamma has sent for us, and Agnes was so
disappointed,--now it's all right, for there's Tilly, and--what
luck--Tom Raymond; he's such a splendid player, and you can--" But Dora
stopped, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Who--who was that behind Tilly?

CHAPTER III.

As Agnes, standing waiting upon the tennis-ground where Dora had left
her, suddenly caught sight of Tom Raymond, her heart gave a little throb
of exultation. Tom Raymond was the best tennis-player she knew. To have
him for her partner would be delightful, and she went forward with the
most gracious welcome to him. So absorbed was she, so pleased at Tom's
appearance, at his polite response to her, she did not observe Miss
Smith,--did not see Tilly draw back, did not hear her say, "No, I don't
care to play, Miss Smith, I want you to play with Will; this is my
friend Will Wentworth, Miss Smith," by way of introduction.

No; Agnes saw and heard nothing of all this, or of Will's polite
arrangements with the newcomer. She saw nothing, she thought of nothing,
but that her own little arrangement to have Tom for a partner was
successful; and so, blithely and triumphantly, she took her place and
lifted her racket. Whizz! she sent the ball flying over the netting,
and whizz! it came flying back again, to be returned by Tom Raymond's
vigorous stroke. Agnes regarded this stroke with due admiration.
"Neither Will nor Tilly can match that," she thought; and at the thought
she looked over and across the netting, to see a girl's uplifted arm
swinging easily forward, the racket hitting the ball lightly with a
swift, sure, upward, and onward motion. Where had Tilly learned to
strike out like that, all at once? Tilly! The uplifted arm that had
partially hidden the player's face was lowered. What--what--it was not
Tilly, but--but--that girl! How did she come there? A glance at Will's
face drawn up into a most exasperating grin, at Will's eyes darting
forth gleams of fun, was enough for Agnes.

Yes, this was Will Wentworth's doing,--this hateful plot to humiliate
her and triumph over her. Stung by this thought, she lost sight for that
moment of everything else, and the ball sent so surely back to her
dropped to the ground before her pa