not? He is very amiable. Everybody says so."

"He is. But I keep remembering what a forward girl I was, and I am
afraid he has not forgotten it either, and that makes me hate the poor
little fellow; no, not hate him; but keep him off. I dare say he thinks
me a cross, ill-tempered thing; and I _am_ very unkind to him, but I
can't help it."

"Never mind," said Mrs. Bassett; "that is much better than to be too
forward. Papa would never forgive that."

By-and-by there was a cricket-match in the farmer's meadow, Highcombe
and Huntercombe eleven against the town of Staveleigh. All clubs liked
to play at Huntercombe, because Sir Charles found the tents and the
dinner, and the young farmers drank his champagne to their hearts'
content.

Ruperta took her maid and went to see the match. They found it going
against Huntercombe. The score as follows--

Staveleigh. First innings, a hundred and forty-eight runs.

Huntercombe eighty-eight.

Staveleigh. Second innings, sixty runs, and only one wicket down; and
Johnson and Wright, two of their best men, well in, and masters of the
bowling.

This being communicated to Ruperta, she became excited, and her soul in
the game.

The batters went on knocking the balls about, and scored thirteen more
before the young lady's eyes.

"Oh, dear!" said she, "what is that boy about? Why doesn't he bowl?
They pretend he is a capital bowler."

At this time Compton was standing long-field on, only farther from the
wicket than usual.

Johnson, at the wicket bowled to, being a hard but not very scientific
hitter, lifted a half volley ball right over the bowler's head, a hit
for four, but a skyscraper. Compton started the moment he hit, and,
running with prodigious velocity, caught the ball descending, within a
few yards of Ruperta; but, to get at it, he was obliged to throw
himself forward into the air; he rolled upon the grass, but held the
ball in sight all the while.

Mr. Johnson was out, and loud acclamations rent the sky.

Compton rose, and saw Ruperta clapping her hands close by.

She left off and blushed, directly he saw her. He blushed too, and
touched his cap to her, with an air half manly, half sheepish, but did
not speak to her.

This was the last ball of the over, and, as the ball was now to be
delivered from the other wicket, Compton took the place of long-leg.

The third ball was overpitched to leg, and Wright, who, like most
country players, hit freely to leg, turned h