It seemed that up to that moment the spectators had not realized that the game was over. Now it came to them with tremendous force.
The little serge-clad Meadow-Brook Girls, the girls who had had but five weeks’ practice on the tennis court, had won one of the greatest amateur matches that had ever been played on the Atlantic coast. A great, explosive roar burst from the throats of the spectators.
P. Earlington Disbrow, forgetting that his sprained ankle was no longer sprained, began hopping about like a rabbit. The boys fought their way through the throngs that were almost mobbing them to get at the victorious girls. They got them safely to the dressing tent, but as soon as they were inside Harriet’s head had drooped and she leaned heavily on Captain Baker’s shoulder.
“She’s fainted,” said George as they gently laid her down on a cot in the dressing tent. Miss Elting and a pale-faced woman rushed into the tent at this juncture. The latter threw herself down by the cot and gathered Harriet into her arms. Tommy sat gasping on the floor while a girl in a white sweater was bathing her face with cold water.
Harriet suddenly opened her eyes and looked into the face of the woman who was holding her so tightly.
“Mother, O, Mother! is it you?” she breathed, with a sharp catch in her voice.
“You fainted, but you are all right now. Oh, it was wonderful, but it was terrible,” sobbed Mrs. Burrell.
“It was foolish in me to faint,” answered Harriet weakly. “I wouldn’t have fainted, but I sprained my ankle more than an hour ago. It seemed as if every step I took would kill me.”
Disbrow, with face now flushed, had been standing on one leg peering anxiously in at Harriet and her friends.
“Do you hear, P. E.?” shouted George, rushing to him and shaking a fist under Disbrow’s nose. “Do you hear that? She’s been playing on a sprained ankle for more than an hour, and yet they won the cup! They won the cup! Lucky for me that my heart’s all right! Whoope-e-e!”