"How do you do?
Mother, do you mind if I open the window?
It's quite warm out of doors--regular summer." Lorne sprang to open the window, while Miss Filkin, murmuring that it had been a beautiful day, moved a little farther from it.
"Oh, please don't trouble, Mr Murchison; thank you very much!" Miss Milburn continued, and subsided on a sofa.

"Have you been playing tennis this week ?" Mr Murchison said that he had been able to get down to the club only once.
"The courts aren't a bit in good order.

They want about a week's rolling.

The balls get up anywhere," said Dora.
"Lawn tennis," Mrs Milburn asserted herself, "is a delightful exercise.
I hope it will never go out of fashion; but that is what we used to say of croquet, and it has gone out and come in again." Lorne listened to this with deference; there was a hint of patience in the regard Dora turned upon her mother.

Mrs Milburn continued to dilate upon lawn tennis, dealt lightly with badminton, and brought the conversation round with a graceful sweep to canoeing.