"But can't you do what you like?" I asked. "Aren't you and I going to do what we like this afternoon? Your servants haven't bothered us much so far."
"Our servants are very kind to us. Of course it is not as though we really belonged to the rich. But I must say that I am rather surprised at their having left us alone for so long."
As if in answer to her, the butler, Mr. Blother, and the footman, Lord Arthur, came out of the house at that moment, carrying a tray on which was a large jug of iced cup of some sort, and a dish of strawberries and cream.
"Oh, Mr. Blother!" exclaimed Miriam. "You can't be so cruel as to expect us to eat and drink any more now!"
"My dear Miriam," said Mr. Blother, in a fatherly manner, "you must eat a few strawberries, or what is the good of the gardener picking them? I will let you off the hock cup until you have had a set or two; but I thought that both you and Mr. Howard would be able to drink it after you had got hot. It is quite time you began to play. Arthur and I are ready to field the balls now, and we want some exercise out of doors badly."
He and the footman bustled away to put up the net, and I went upstairs to put on a pair of tennis shoes. When I came down again the net was up and the racquets and balls were ready for us.
Lord Arthur looked at me with some displeasure. "I don't know why you couldn't have asked me to fetch your shoes," he said. "You and I will fall out if you bring your airs of poverty and independence here."
"I'll give you some work to do, if that is what you want," I said. "I'm not very good at this game, and I am a hard and rather wild hitter."
But it was Mr. Blother who fielded the balls behind Miriam, and it pleased me to see him running about here and there in his swallowtail coat, and getting into a terrible state of perspiration and breathlessness.