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To Him That Hath: a Tale of the West of Today by Pseudonym Ralph Connor
page 12 of 328 (03%)

"Haven't you had enough of this?" she said. Her voice carried clear
across the court.

"What d'ye say? By Jove, no!" said her cousin in a joyous voice. "This
is the most cheering thing I've seen for many moons, Adrien. Eh,
what? Oh, I beg pardon, are you seedy?" he added glancing at her. "Oh,
certainly, I'll come at once."

"Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way home.
Please don't come."

"But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't you
really wait?"

"No, I am not in the least interested in this--this kind of tennis," she
said in a bored voice.

Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of the
players who were changing ends at the moment. Both of the men glanced at
her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On Jack's face the shadow
darkened but except for a slight straightening of the line of his lips
he gave no sign.

"You are quite sure you don't care?" said Sidney. "You don't want me?
This really is great, you know."

"Not for worlds would I drag you away," said Adrien in a cool, clear
voice. "Frances will keep you company." She turned to her friend. "Look
after him, Frances," she said. "Good-bye. Dinner at seven to-night, you
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