trudged
doggedly away after his ball, he felt himself very much alone under what
he thought must be the derisive eyes of all the rest. The game ended
before he had gained the turning stake.

"Skunked," remarked Morris cheerfully.

Gerald said nothing, did not even look; but Bobby liked Morris's comment
better than Gerald's assumed indifference.

"Let's have another game--partners," suggested Gerald to Celia.

But Bobby, to his own great surprise, found courage to speak up.

"Let's not play croquet any more," said he. "Let's have a game of
Hi-Spy."

"It's too hot," interposed Gerald quickly.

The others said nothing, but with the child's keen instinct for the
drama, had drawn aside in favour of the principal actors. Gerald stood
by the stake, leaning indolently on his mallet, his long black lashes
down-cast over the dark pallor of his cheeks, very handsome, very
graceful. Bobby had drawn near on Celia's other side. The comparison
showed all his freckles and the unformed homeliness of his rather dumpy,
sturdy figure; it showed also the honest dull red of his cheeks and the
clear unfaltering gray of his eyes. Celia, between them, looked down,
tapping her croquet ball with the tip of her shoe.

"I don't think it's very hot," she said at last, looking up. "Let's play
Hi-Spy."

A wave of glowing triumph rushed through Bobby's soul. Gerald merely
shrugged his shoulders.

But unmixed joy was to be a short-lived emotion with Bobby as far as
Celia was concerned. He knew lots of fine hiding-places about the
grounds of the Ottawa, and he promised himself that he would take Celia
to them. They could hide together; and that would be delightful.

Morris counted out first to be "it." He leaned his arm against a post,
his head against his arm, and closed his eyes.

"Ten-ten-double-ten-forty-five-fifteen" he repeated over ten times as
rapidly as possible. That was his way of counting a thousand.

The other children scurried off as fast as their legs could carry them
in order to reach concealment before the end of the count. And somehow,
against his will, Bobby found himself cast in the hurry of the moment
with Kitty instead of with Celia. And Celia he saw disappear in Gerald's
convoy.

"Coming!" roared Morris, uncovering his eyes.

"Oh dear, he's coming!" cried Kitty in distress, "and we're not hid!
Where shall we go? Don't you know any good places?"

But Bobby, still confused over his disappointment, had not the wit