Billie was steady, careful, sure, coolest in an emergency.
It was pretty to watch the two on the courts; it was always interesting; it was even apt to prove dramatic.
To Billie, tennis was a well loved sport. On the courts all personal enmity was forgotten, all private grudges temporarily wiped out.
Not so, however, with Amanda. This girl, while having developed excellent tennis form, was a bad sport both on and off the courts. She, unlike Billie, carried her private grudges with her and was only at top form when winning.
This year, however, it began to look as though Amanda Peabody would win. With Billie so far from top form, there was no one at Three Towers capable of giving Amanda “a good run for her money.”
Billie regarded her chums with troubled eyes.
“If only one of you could train in my place——”
“Don’t look at me!” cried Vi, in alarm. “You know I am a perfect dub on the courts.”
“You are getting better all the time.”
“It would take me from now to eternity to get good enough to beat Amanda. Don’t pick on me, Billie. You know very well I’m out.”