“I’d like to sit with the driver,” Persis said to Lisa, “but Annis ought to have first choice, and I know she wants the place, so I’ll sit back with Mrs. Dixon.”
Lisa nodded and moved aside to make room for Wilson Vane. But Persis was very well content, and the flying streamers, flower-decked maidens, and prancing horses attracted all eyes as they drew up to one side of the field. Numbers of other teams had already arrived, and salutations were exchanged while the college lads were preparing for their feats.
“Oh, there is Mr. Dan!” cried Persis, after a time. “Go bring him here, Basil.” And she leaned eagerly forward, while Lisa shrank farther back in her seat, as Basil proceeded to hunt up his friend, after calling on Wilson to look after the horses.
“He has nearly forgotten me by this time,” thought Lisa, a sudden wave of humility rushing over her. “How silly to suppose he ever gave me more than a passing thought!”
In another moment Mr. Danforth was answering Persis’s welcoming words, and then Annis in her turn received his greeting. Lisa was the last to give recognition. She held out her hand timidly, and since Wilson had clambered down to take the driver’s place for a moment the new-comer took the vacant seat by Lisa’s side.
“It is quite a gay sight, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes,” replied Lisa, laconically.
Persis leaned over. “Basil is going to be in the running-match, and that comes next. Oh, Mr. Dan, don’t you hope he will win?”
“I do, indeed,” returned he over his shoulder. “Basil is a good runner.”
“I know he is. There he comes!” And all eyes were turned toward the race-course. Three slim lads stood abreast, each intent, alert. “Go!” And they dart forward. Basil is ahead. No. Harvey Dana has passed him. Persis, with parted lips, watches breathlessly, unconsciously rising to her feet as the runners appear on the opposite side of the ring. Once around and Harvey Dana is ahead. “Oh!” cried Persis, sinking down in disappointment.