She ran down the court, cleared the net to the amazement of the visitors, and seated herself beside her.

Clara's reserved and refined nature shrank somewhat from the boisterous frankness and strange manners of the widow, and yet her feminine instinct told her that beneath all her peculiarities there lay much that was good and noble.

She smiled up at her, therefore, and nodded a greeting.
"Why aren't you playing, then?
Don't, for goodness' sake, begin to be languid and young ladyish! When you give up active sports you give up youth." "I have played a set, Mrs.Westmacott." "That's right, my dear." She sat down beside her, and tapped her upon the arm with her tennis racket.

"I like you, my dear, and I am going to call you Clara.

You are not as aggressive as I should wish, Clara, but still I like you very much.