"Oh, no; on the contrary, it's generally a lie," says he.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," says Miss Bolton, turning her
back on him, which proceeding seems to fill the stout young man's
soul with delight.

"Do come and sit down, dear child; you look exhausted," says Lady
Rylton, still cooing.

"I'm not," says Tita, shaking her head. "Tennis is not so very
exhausting--is it, Mrs. Bethune?"

"I don't know, I'm sure. It seems to have exhausted your hair, at
all events," says Mrs. Bethune, with her quick smile. "I think you
had better go upstairs and settle it; it is very untidy."

"Is it? Is it?" says Tita.

She runs her little fingers through her pretty short locks, and
gazes round. Her eyes meet Margaret's.

"No, no," says the latter, laughing. "It looks like the hair of a
little girl. You," smiling, _"are_ a little girl. Go away and finish
your fight with Mr. Gower."

"Yes. Come! Miss Knollys is on my side. She knows I shall win," says
the stout young man; and, whilst disputing with him at every step,
Tita disappears.

"What a girl! No style, no manners," says Lady Rylton; "and yet I