"Well, as Tad would say, what have you butted against now?"
"The lawn. We haven't any;" and Vinnie looked as if she were nearly related to White Cloud or Sitting Bull.
"No," said Gussie, eying the small patch of grass in front of the house almost concealed by the tall shrubbery. "It's too bad. But—"
"Now you've butted against something," exclaimed Vinnie, catching the infection of Gussie's merriment.
"No, I haven't," was the reply. "I've butted over the fence, and have the bull—no, the goat—by the horns. We have—a—lovely—lawn!"
"Gussie!"
"Fact."
"But your mother?"
"I think she'll like it. Tad'll help us. We'll combine our birthdays, and have a royal good time." Here she seized Vinnie around the waist, and waltzed her about to the tune of the "Racquet Galop" until both were out of breath.
Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Dean were consulted, and gave their hearty consent to the proposed plan, and Tad saw a good chance for distinguishing himself. He and Gus had been reading about lawn tennis, and had seen so many illustrations of the game that they were sure they could play it if they had a chance.