The men looked at each other.
“Well,” confessed Vic, “I was thinking of dropping in myself. After all, it is our home team and they are good sports. And Maitland handled them with wonderful skill.”
“Yes, I am going,” said Hugh. “I am bound to go as Captain of the Eagles, and that sort of thing, but I would, anyway. Would you care to come, Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course there are chaperons. Maitland would see to that.”
“I should like awfully to go,” said Adrien eagerly. “We might, for a few minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia should be in bed, really.”
Poor Patricia's face fell.
“It is no place for any of you,” said the mother, decidedly. “Just think of that mixed multitude! And you, Patricia, you should be in bed.”
“But oh, Mamma, dear,” wailed Patricia, “I can rest all day to-morrow.”
At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor Templeton appeared. “Well, what's the excitement,” he enquired. “Oh, the match, of course! Well, what was the result?”
“Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!” cried Patricia, springing at him. “The most glorious match! Big Jumbo Larson, a perfect monster on the Cornwall defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious match! And can't I go down to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and Vic are going. Only for a few minutes,” she begged, with her arms around her father's neck. “Say yes, Daddy!”
“Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin somewhere—say, with the score.”