"Why, do you play?" asked Cynthia, in surprise.
"To be sure I do. I used to play a great deal at one time. I mean to ask your father to have the tennis-court at Oakleigh made over, and then we can have some games there."
"How jolly!" exclaimed Jack and Cynthia together.
"We cannot afford to," put in Edith, coldly.
Mrs. Franklin paid no attention to this. "It will be nice when Neal comes," she added.
"Neal, always Neal," thought Edith. "Pleasant for us to have a strange boy here all the time. Oh, dear, how hateful I am! I don't feel nice towards anybody. If only papa had never seen or heard of the Gordons, how much happier we should all have been."
But she was the only one of the household that thought so. The younger children had been completely won over, and it was a constant source of surprise and chagrin to Edith to see how easily their step-mother managed the hitherto refractory pair.
Before long the party reached the grounds. The Brenton Tennis Club was a very attractive place. The smooth and well-kept courts stretched away to the river, which wound and curved towards the old town, for the club was on the outskirts of the village. The river was wider here than it was farther up at Oakleigh, and picturesque stone bridges crossed it at intervals.
Benches had been placed all about the grounds, from which the spectators could watch the game, and under a marquee was a dainty table, with huge bowls of lemonade and plates of cake. Edith presided at the tea-kettle, looking very pretty, notwithstanding her old gown and the stormy morning she had passed.
Mrs. Franklin, upon whom most of the Brenton people had already called, sat on one of the benches with some friends, and was soon absorbed in the game.