"Don't you? Well, that can soon be remedied. Here, where's the ball? Lend me your stick a moment, Betty. Now, Gerry, stand square. No, not like that—feet apart. So. That's better. Now—one, two, three—now hit the ball. See? Do it again until you've quite got it." And she made the younger girl repeat the performance again and again until Gerry really seemed to know the correct movements.
"Now, then, come along and begin. Here's your stick, Betty—thanks very much."
But Gerry still hung back.
"Oh, Muriel—I can't!" she breathed unhappily. But Muriel only smiled down into her face, kindly but very firmly.
"Now, Gerry, don't be silly. This isn't a match, and it doesn't matter a hang if you do make a mess of it. You can't live at Wakehurst Priory and not play hockey. We're all hockey mad here, you know, and I've made up my mind that you're going to learn to play. It was mostly for your sake that I came down to coach the K teams to-day. Buck up, now, and try. You can do it, you know, if you'll only think you can."
Thus adjured, Gerry made an effort. She took her place reluctantly on the centre-line and began to bully. Much to her own surprise she got the ball away from her opponent, and on following up her advantage succeeded in getting it by the centre half also. She lost it then, but much encouraged by Muriel's approving "Well done, Gerry!" she made another great effort and retrieved it again. And thenceforward, although she did not distinguish herself very specially, she took quite an active part in the game, finding it a good deal easier and much less painful—even when she did inadvertently stop a ball on her ankle—than she had expected.
In making her play centre forward, Muriel had hit upon the one plan which could help her to overcome her nerves. Right in the thick of the battle there was no time for overmuch thinking, and the sick feeling of nervousness which had always crept over her hitherto when she stood at full back, waiting, waiting, waiting for the ball to come, was banished altogether. Towards the end of the afternoon, Gerry even succeeded in hitting a goal, much to her own surprise and the surprise of her fellow-players. It was more by good luck than judgment, but all the same it served to hearten her spirits immensely, and Muriel's smile of approval more than compensated for the pain her bruised ankle was causing her.
"You see you can play all right when you like," said the head girl when the practice was over. "Are you walking down with anybody? No? Good; then come and walk down with me. Let's see, now, when's your next practice? Friday, isn't it?"
"Yes, Friday," answered Gerry, rather hot and breathless from her exertions, but so pleased at her late performance that she did not mind that.
"Well, I shall come and coach you again then, and if you do as well as you did to-day, I shall move you up into J.2. It will be much better for you than playing amongst all those little kids. But you'll have to play forward always, never back. I always think you need to be rather a stolid individual altogether to make a successful back. I can't think why Kathleen ever put you to play there. Besides, you're cut out for a forward with those great long legs of yours. And you can run, too—I watched you particularly to-day."