This they did, and during the next half hour Muriel did some leaping and running that made the observers decide that, when she understood the rules of the game, she would play at least as well as the majority.
“The luncheon bell is ringing,” Faith sang out at last. The players stopped and the others, gazing at Muriel, suddenly realized she was truly beautiful. Her loosened hair clustered in moist ringlets about her flushed face, her orange colored tam was jauntily askew, and her eyes were glowing. “That was great fun,” she said, when the garden door was reached. “Thank you all for tryin’ to teach me.”
CHAPTER XXIX.
JOY KIERSEY.
That had been the first of many hours of practice on the tennis courts. Running races with Shags and rowing had been the only two outdoor sports Muriel had known. For that reason, perhaps, she thoroughly enjoyed tennis, and how her friends did enjoy watching her.
Every afternoon from four to five o’clock they had the court to themselves, that being the hour when Marianne Carnot was practicing her vocal lessons on the other side of the school. These three friends did not wish Marianne to even suspect that Muriel was being drilled. Not that they had any hope of winning the game, which was but a fortnight away. In fact, it would be unwise to permit so new a player as Muriel to even take part, they decided. Joy Kiersey, who usually played with Catherine Lambert, had been ill, and was not yet strong enough to practice, although she assured the girls that she would not fail them on the day of the tournament.
“We have a strong team,” Faith told Muriel one noon at lunch, “when Joy is with us, but not so strong when she isn’t.”
“I haven’t met Joy Kiersey as yet, have I?” Rilla said this slowly, thoughtfully, and hence more correctly.
Faith was pleased, but made no comment. “No,” she replied. “Joy did not return at the beginning of the term, and although she has been in High Cliffs for a week now, she remains in her room most of the time. We thought that we would call upon her this afternoon during the free period, and I planned asking you to accompany us.”
Muriel shook her head. “Don’t,” she said. Then twinkles appeared in her clear hazel eyes. “I dunno how to make a call. We haven’t had that yet in politeness.”
Faith, however, did not smile. “This afternoon, dear, you follow me and do just what I do and then, at least, you will be as correct a guest as I am.”