She then looked at me with her serene and confident glance.
“It has been hard work, Lizzie,” she said. “It is not over. It is even possible that I may call on you to do things which your ethical sense will at first reject. But remember this, and then decide: The happiness of two young and tender hearts is at stake.”
She seemed glad of a confidante, and asked me to keep a record of some six practice shots, as shown by the dial on the machine. I have this paper before me as I write:
1st drive, 230 yards. Slight pull.
2nd drive, 245 yards. Direct.
3rd drive, 300 yards. Slice.
4th drive, 310 yards. Direct.
5th drive. Wire broke.
6th drive. Wire broke again. Ball went through window pane. Probably hit dog, as considerable howling outside.
She then showed me her clubs, of which she had some forty-six, not all of which, however, she approved of. It was at that time that dear Tish taught me the names of some of them, such as niblick, stymie, cleek, mashie, putter, stance, and brassie, and observed mysteriously that I would need my knowledge later on. She also advised that before going back to Penzance we walk increasing distances every day.