Although I was still applying cynical laughter to my infernal folly, I was quite prepared to seize the opportunity of seeing great men in private life, and that other surpassing member of their family showing them how things should be done. Therefore I found myself gazing with both eyes over the hedge on to the Rectory lawn. It was a single wicket match. Grace herself was batting. A. H. was bowling slow breaks; Captain George was keeping wicket; Elphinstone was in the country; T. S. M., H. C., and Carteret were all disposed on the leg-side; whilst an old, foxey-looking individual was acting in the responsible capacity of umpire. I had not been there a minute ere Miss Grace, in attempting a tremendous blind swipe right off her middle over the cucumber frame at deep square-leg, was saved by her skirt from being clean bowled.
“How’s that?” cried A. H., lustily.
“Not hout!” cried the umpire, in a tone that plainly told A. H. what he, the umpire, thought of him as a man and a gentleman.
“Very good decision, Biffin,” said Miss Grace, calmly patting down the turf to show that the ball had turned a bit. However, Nemesis waited on Miss Grace next ball. With another mighty swipe she fetched a real good one round like lightning, and the youthful T. S. M., fielding short-leg, jumping up, effected a wonderful one-handed catch.
“Well, what a fluke!” cried Miss Grace; “that would have been the winning hit.”
“But isn’t,” said Elphinstone, alias Toddles, cheerfully; “and Surrey have beaten Middlesex by two runs. First defeat of the champion county. Oh, Stoddy, why weren’t you steadier?”
“Yes, why weren’t you steadier, Stoddy?” said Carteret.
“’Cause I didn’t think there was anybody in this parish who could catch anything after yesterday’s exhibition,” said the famous Middlesex batsman dejectedly.
“What’s the next fixture in the Middlesex list?” asked Captain George.
“Middlesex v. Gloucestershire at Cheltenham,” said Miss Grace. “Same sides. Let’s toss for innings.”