"Oh," said Christina, "you never would! That would be awful! I always thought it so wicked to fight, but mother does, so I suppose it's what she calls 'sport'!"
"Your mother fight?"
Dawn looked very puzzled. He was in the garden with Christina, and tired with running about, they were now taking a rest on the top of a low wall in the kitchen garden.
"Yes," said Christina with a grave nod; "mother and a lot of ladies all fought each other with sticks in a field at the bottom of the lawn over there. They were fighting for a ball, and they all tried to hit each other. I ran away, because I couldn't bear to look at them."
"Oh, you goose! That was a game of hockey. They weren't hitting each other, only the ball. You really ought to learn some games, Tina; you don't know anything at all!"
"It frightened me," pursued Christina. "I've never seen ladies play at games like that!"
"You wait till this boy comes, then we'll do an awful lot of things; oh, I wish I could stay to see him! Do you think I could run off to the station and see him arrive? What train does he come by?"
"Mother is going to meet him herself; she said she would. I think it's at four o'clock."
"I'll be there then," said Dawn, "and I think I'll leave you now. Good-bye."
He was away like the wind, and Christina, feeling it very dull to be in the garden alone, went indoors. She was full of curiosity over the new arrival, but as usual her fears were uppermost.