“Love game.”
“Isn’t it awful!” groaned Sam Crocker.
The second game was a repetition of the first except that Harriet did not fall down. It was a love game in favor of their opponents.
“It’s all over,” declared Dill when they began the third game.
“It’s our last chance, Tommy. We must win the rest of the set. See! They’ve brought the cup here,” said Harriet.
The cup stood out in the bright sunlight a vivid flame. Tommy gasped. It was an inspiration to her.
“Yeth,” she breathed in awe of the beautiful sight.
They began to play. Harriet Burrell did not fall down. She was on her mettle. All the determination that she possessed had been summoned to the task before her. She was a different person. Tommy, inspired by the sight of the beautiful trophy, was a different girl, too.
Their opponents won the first two games, but Harriet and Tommy gave evidence of their splendid training and spirit by winning the next two.
“Two-all,” called the referee, and so the score went see-sawing back and forth until it was deuce, and finally 6-5 in favor of the Meadow-Brooks.