As it turned out, this was an overestimate. The Rustleford Manor Eleven went in to bat at one o'clock precisely, and were all dismissed in the space of forty-five minutes for forty-nine runs. The pitch was almost unplayable; each bowler found a "spot"; and it was only some berserk slogging by Pip, who went in last and refused to allow any ball to alight on the treacherous turf at all, that this insignificant total was not halved.
The Elevens lunched together in the pavilion, but the rest of the party returned to the house. Here Elsie, who had spent a not altogether comfortable night and morning, was somewhat surprised to find herself seated next to Cullyngham.
"I thought you had gone," she said.
"Unfortunately," he replied, "I came down at twelve to drive to the station, to find that I had misunderstood Mrs. Chell and kept the trap too late to have any chance of catching the train."
"Never mind," said Elsie. "You'll be able to come and see the match now. It is going to be tremendously exciting."
Cullyngham lowered his head in her direction, and said,—
"Will you let me have that round of golf this afternoon—the one I should have had next Monday?"
Elsie surveyed him doubtfully. Under ordinary circumstances she would have preferred to see the cricket, but she was not insensible to Cullyngham's charms, and she liked the flattering way in which he had couched his request.
"But the cricket?" she said. "Surely you—"
"Some things are worth many cricket-matches," said Cullyngham sententiously.