'Thou must not be hurt at a well-meaning friend, though he shake thee somewhat roughly by the shoulder to awake thee.'
Quentin Durward.
Half an hour later Audrey had finished her game, and had resisted all her partner's pleadings to give their opponents their revenge. She might feel tempted—Mr. Blake played so splendidly—but she knew her duty to her guests better than that.
'You must get another partner,' she said, with something of her sister's decision. 'Here is Miss Fortescue; she has been sitting out a long time, and she is a very good player. Gertrude'—raising her voice—'Mr. Blake wants a partner. I am sure you will take pity on him.' And in this manner Gertrude obtained her wish.
Perhaps she would rather have had her desire gratified in a different manner—if Mr. Blake had asked her himself, for example. She was not quite pleased at the tone in which he professed himself delighted to play with Miss Fortescue; he fetched her racket a little reluctantly, when Audrey pointed it out, and there was certainly no enthusiasm visible in his manner as he suggested that Miss Cardell and her partner were waiting for them.
'Do you know where my mother and Miss Ross have gone?' he asked, as they took their place.
'Mrs. Blake asked Miss Ross to show her the pond. They are waiting for you to serve, Mr. Blake;' and then Cyril did consent to throw himself into the game. Miss Fortescue was a good-looking girl, and played well, but she was not Miss Ross; nevertheless, Cyril had no intention of accepting a beating, and he was soon playing as brilliantly as ever.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Blake was talking after her usual rapid fashion.
'What beautiful grounds! and so tastefully laid out, too. I have never seen such a garden. I do love this succession of terraces, and those trees with white leaves just striped with pink—what do you call them, Miss Ross?'
Audrey told her they were white maple.