It had been a particularly strenuous day for Nancy, who had not only played in two hard fought competitions, but in acting deputy hostess, among the very mixed multitude in the tents; seeing that ices and cup were unfailing, and in distributing little civilities among the crowd,—with Sir Dudley as her attendant. When the last game had been contested, and the last straggling group had dispersed, she strolled towards the river, accompanied by Mrs. Hicks, who pounced upon her bodily, and said, "Come you here, you little Nancy girl! I never get a word with you these times," taking her arm, and with a significant glance at Sir Dudley, she added, "turn about is fair play; he has had more than his share," she continued, as he moved off.
"My goodness! how the time flies, I've been here five days, and they have gone like greased lightning. Let us go and sit on the bench by the boat-house, and see if there is a bit of air from the river!"
"You played in your very best form to-day," said Nancy. "Your service was splendid; I felt immensely proud of you."
"Thank you, my dear, the same to you!" she rejoined, seating herself with a sigh of satisfaction. "Who's them two over in the boat? I'm getting a bit short-sighted?"
"Mrs. Speyde, and Captain Mayne."
"They don't seem to be rowing?"
"No, just drifting,—and talking."
"Drifting! so they are,—well! well! well! Look here, Nancy girl, I've got something to say to you. There's no one in the boat-house, is there?" peering round.
"No one,—and is it really such a secret?" and she laughed.
"You shall judge for yourself! The last three days I have kept my eyes open."