The game will divert your thoughts." So that afternoon Eric, for the first time since Verny's death, played with the first eleven, of which he had been captain.

The school cheered him vigorously as he appeared again on the field, and the sound lighted up his countenance with some gleam of its old joyousness.

When one looked at him that day with his straw hat on and its neat light-blue ribbon, and the cricket dress (a pink jersey and leather belt, with a silver clasp in front), showing off his well-built and graceful figure, one little thought what an agony was gnawing like a serpent at his heart.

But that day, poor boy, in the excitement of the game he half forgot it himself, and more and more as the game went on.
The other side, headed by Montagu, went in first, and Eric caught out two, and bowled several.

Montagu was the only one who stayed in long, and when at last Eric sent his middle wicket flying with a magnificent ball, the shouts of "well bowled! well bowled _indeed_," were universal.
"Just listen to that, Eric," said Montagu; "why, you're out-doing every body to-day, yourself included, and taking us by storm." "Wait till you see me come out for a duck," said Eric laughing.
"Not you.