This time Barbara was plainly nervous. She felt that nearly all the friends around them wanted Ruth to win. They would be delighted, of course, with her success and kind to her, but open-hearted and open-handed Ruth was the favorite with them all; at least, Bab thought so.
With returning courage, Bab hit her last ball a hard blow. It rose high in the air! Hugh sprang on his tiptoes to receive it and gave a mighty shout. The ball had fallen outside the line.
Ralph and Barbara were the first to congratulate the victors. Barbara cleared the net with a bound, forgetting both her age and her audience.
“There, Ruth, you and Hugh are the best players that ever happened!” Barbara spoke with a glowing face. Then she turned to Ralph: “I lost the game for you,” she said. “I am so sorry.”
“Oh, no, you didn’t, my lady,” said Ralph. “I lost the game before this one, so we’re even.”
An admiring circle had formed around Ruth and Hugh.
“Your father will be delighted, I know, child,” said Miss Sallie.
“I haven’t won the cup yet, Auntie,” protested Ruth.
“But you must, child,” said Mrs. Cartwright, smiling. “I am betting on you and Hugh in the tournament, and you mustn’t make me lose my box of candy.”
“Barbara,” said Ralph, shyly, as they walked off toward home a little later, “I don’t like to ask you, but did you mean to miss those last serves?”