There was not a large audience, for cricket and swimming claimed many, but the crew of the "Jolly Susan" were there, you may be sure, and most of South House, for it had been whispered about that Judith's game was worth watching.

"Well played," said Eleanor heartily, as Florence called out the score. "Game and set in Judith's favour! You've improved your game tremendously, Judy."

"Thanks, Judy," said Catherine; "hardly a good fight, I'm afraid, rather a good beating." Try as she did to keep it out there was a little coldness in Catherine's voice. She was tired after yesterday's match, and it wasn't particularly pleasant to be beaten by a youngster after she had been champion for South for two years.

Judith's quick ears had caught the note of coldness, and her gay spirits deserted her instantly. What did winning a game matter if Catherine were displeased with her! She was almost angry with Nancy, who remarked gleefully after Catherine had gone, "You're almost sure to be chosen to play for the House now, Judy, dear. What tremendous luck!"

Judith wouldn't hear of it, and when a little later Eleanor told her that she was the choice of the Committee she begged to be let off.

"It really wasn't fair," she protested. "Cathy was awfully tired and not in good form, and I was feeling tip-top. I'd hate to take her place."

But Eleanor was firm. "Catherine," she said, "is not playing so well—she's had too many irons in the fire, so we'll look to you to win for South. Patricia says she'll take you for fifteen minutes every morning before breakfast. Your net play needs a little steadying—get in as much practice as you can before the tournament."

Eleanor's word was final, and of course it was gratifying to be chosen, but Judith's pleasure was spoilt by her fear that Catherine was hurt and would never be friends with her again. That night at visiting hour she knocked at Catherine's door with the resolve to tell her in some way or other that she was sorry. She didn't know quite how it was to be done, because she might only make matters worse. But instead of Catherine's usual cheerful "Come in," a preoccupied voice said, "Who's there?" and to Judith's answer, replied, "Will another time do, Judy? I'm awfully busy."

Judith went off disconsolately, and when she did try to express her regret at being chosen in place of Catherine, her endeavours, as she feared, were not a success. Catherine merely said that of course she was glad Judith was to play, but again her voice was cold.

"Cathy doesn't really mean it," protested Nancy, in whom Judith confided. "She's just busy with the play—you know she's to be the heroine—and she's writing on her diploma examination too. Cheer up, Judy, don't look so like an owl."