marked out in a clay-pan; and here Irralie descried a racket which had been left out, and picked it up.
"So you actually play lawn-tennis up here!" exclaimed the owner.
"Actually!" repeated Irralie, with fine scorn. "Goodness! do you think we are so far behind you as all that?"
He laughed. "I beg your pardon, Miss Villiers. Still, your rackets are behind us—just a season or so."
"What do you mean ?"
"That one is bent. They are now made straight as a die!"
"I don't believe you," cried Irralie, warmly; and the argument ensuing was lively to the last degree. It ended, however, in laughter, swiftly followed by some consideration on the girl's part that cut her laughter short. It was as if she had suddenly found herself in church or in the presence of death. She stood quite still in the moonlight, and looked him very thoroughly up and down.
"You have lived here always?" he said
