Miss Maggie said yes, that she liked to watch tennis games, too. If this was just a wee bit of a hint, it quite failed of its purpose, for Mr. Smith did not offer to take her with him. He changed the subject, indeed, so abruptly, that Miss Maggie bit her lip and flushed a little, throwing a swift glance into his apparently serene countenance.
Miss Maggie herself, in the afternoon, with an errand for an excuse, walked slowly by the tennis court. She saw Mr. Smith at once—but he did not seem at all interested in the playing. He had his back to the court, in fact. He was talking very animatedly with Mellicent Blaisdell. He was still talking with her—though on the opposite side of the court—when Miss Maggie went by again on her way home.
Miss Maggie frowned and said something just under her breath about “that child—flirting as usual!” Then she went on, walking very fast, and without another glance toward the tennis ground. But a little farther on Miss Maggie’s step lagged perceptibly, and her head lost its proud poise. Miss Maggie, for a reason she could not have explained herself, was feeling suddenly old, and weary, and very much alone.
To the image in the mirror as she took off her hat a few minutes later in her own hall, she said scornfully:
“Well, why shouldn’t you feel old? You are old. You are old!” Miss Maggie had a habit of talking to herself in the mirror—but never before had she said anything like this to herself.
An hour later Mr. Smith came home to supper.
“Well, how did the game go?” queried Miss Maggie, without looking up from the stocking she was mending.
“Game? Go? Oh! Why, I don’t remember who did win finally,” he answered. Nor did it apparently occur to him that for one who was so greatly interested in tennis, he was curiously uninformed.
It did occur to Miss Maggie, however.
The next day Mr. Smith left the house soon after breakfast, and, contrary to his usual custom, did not mention where he was going. Miss Maggie was surprised and displeased. More especially was she displeased because she was displeased. As if it mattered to her where he went, she told herself scornfully.