they did!"

Ella drew a deep breath, and looked awed and important.

"Well! it was a county match, and one team wore white blouses and the
other pink. They had on blue skirts, very short, and awful feet! Some
had great pads on each ankle, and some had leggings, and some had
nothing at all. I should have swathings of cotton wool a foot wide, for
it made my ankles ache just to see the sticks swinging about! It was an
icy day; the wind went through us like knives and scissors, and we stood
on little planks of wood and shuddered, with furs up to our ears, but
they wore no hats or jackets, and their sleeves went flap, flap, as thin
as possible. There was only one pretty one among them, all the rest
looked--hideous! There was a goal at one end, _here_, and another,
_here_." Ella drew a rough map of the ground on the back of an
envelope, and Rhoda looked on with breathless interest. "This team
wanted to make a goal _here_, and the other side tried to prevent them.
They whacked with their sticks, and off went the ball, and each side
flew after it, trying to send it the way they wanted, and one poor,
wretched girl stood before each goal to prevent the enemy's ball from
entering. I expected they would both die of consumption the next day,
but I met them out at tea, quite spry and lively, and they said they
didn't feel cold a bit. I didn't believe them, but that's nothing. An
umpire marched about in leggings, and blew a whistle, and called out
`Off side! Off side!'"

"And what did he mean by that?"

Ella hesitated, uncertainly. Her knowledge of the game was of the
slightest, but she was anxious to help her friend, and gallantly tried
to recall odd explanations.

"Oh, well, I think one of the wrong side hit, you know, and there is a
rule that you may not send the ball straight forward to one of your own
side, but must hit it back to some one behind you."

"But that's silly! If you want to get on as fast as you can, why on
earth must you go _back_? If they never hit forward, how can they win.
Do you mean to say they _never_ send it forwards towards the goal?"

"Oh, yes, yes! One girl was splendid. She hit magnificently. She ran
like a man, and sent it flying before her, and made three goals
herself."

"Then how--why--what--what in the world did you mean by saying that you
_mustn't_ do it?" demanded Rhoda sternly, and Ella made a gesture as of
tearing her hair in confusion.

"I don't know! It isn't easy