"We shall play for love."
"Love? Right!"
There was an awkward pause. Technical terms lead one into such pitfalls. Elsie felt herself beginning to turn pink. Pip, who might have smoothed the situation over, made it worse by saying,—
"So it's to be a love-match?"
There was no mistaking Elsie's colour now. A blush ran flaming over her face in a great scarlet wave. But Pip proceeded quite calmly,—
"That's just what I want it to be. I'm glad you said that, though of course you didn't mean it in that way. You are a good golfer. On your day you can get round in, say, ninety. I am a rotter. I have only twice got round under a hundred. If I play you level to-morrow and beat you, will you—marry me?"
"Pip!"
Elsie was sincere enough now. She was genuinely astounded. She knew Pip for a man of blunt speech and direct methods, but she had hardly been prepared for this. She merely turned from red to white, and repeated her astonished cry,—
"Pip!"
Pip continued, quite coolly now,—