That afternoon, though the sun was still hot, the cool Maine breeze stirred the sunny locks of Lilian and Cathalina as the girls met for the final test of skill in tennis. Both girls played well, having played for several years. A few councillors and a number of the girls occupied a bench or two, or found seats on the grass beside the favorite court, the one nearest the lane.
“Now, Lil,” said Cathalina, as swinging their racquets they walked toward the court, “you are such a dear, that only I’m afraid of one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you will hate to beat me and won’t play your best.”
“I thought that all out, Cathalina, and I think that the only fair thing is for each of us to play her level best. And don’t you let me beat you because you hate to beat me, or get lazy and do not care!”
“I guess that is the more likely,” acknowledged Cathalina, laughing. “I’m a lazy-bones, but I promise to do my best. Beware!”
“Here comes the champs!”
“What’s the matter with the champions?”
“Rah, rah, Lil!”
“Rah, rah, Cathie!”