But the racket didn’t belong to Barbara. Cara had snatched it up from a bench and handed it to her when they entered the court. Now, Barbara paused to note the burnt-in letters the racket was marked with; Dudley Burke. Yes, it belonged to Cara’s brother, Dud, and he had a local reputation as a crack tennis player. Naturally interested in sports, she was also interested in its advocates, and as if her thoughts had gone by wireless, at this instant a boy’s whistle sounded through the shrubbery.
Barbara started guiltily. Why? All alone in the strange grounds, a stranger—what would the girls say if they should come along? Perhaps that she had stayed behind them just for this chance. But she had not, of course. The wish to be alone had prompted her, only that. But now, here was Dudley Burke. She knew it before she saw him, and being essentially honest she admitted, secretly, that she was glad he had come!
“Hello!” came a cheery greeting from between the mulberry trees. “Where’s Cara?”
“Gone to the lake,” Barbara replied easily, for the boy was not exactly a stranger to her. She had met him with Glenn at the hotel tennis match.
“Practicing?”
“With your racket——”
“Oh, help yourself. Plenty of them spoiling around here. Feel like a little game?”
Barbara’s face was being transformed from that brooding serious picture of a few moments ago, to the image of a pretty girl, blushing happily and responding naturally to the comradeship offered her.
What if she did prefer boys to girls? Or if she thought she did? Wasn’t Glenn the best playmate a girl ever had? So generously understanding and so free from petty criticism, was Glenn.
“I’m afraid I shouldn’t be on the court in these shoes,” she answered Dudley, while she thought of so many other things. “They have heels——”