"You won't dare!" said I.
"There is nothing else for it," said Amanda sternly. "You know perfectly
well that we must practise every minute of the time, if we expect to
have the least chance of winning. If she _will_ come just now--well!"
Amanda cocked her pretty chin in the air, and looked defiant.
"But--_Aunt Susannah!_" said I.
"It's quite time for you to go and meet her," said Amanda, cutting short
my remonstrances; and she rose with an air of finality.
My wife, within her limitations, is a very clever woman. She is prompt:
she is resolute: she has the utmost confidence in her own generalship.
Yet, looking at Aunt Susannah, as she sat--gaunt, upright, and
formidable--beside me in the dogcart, I did not believe even Amanda
capable of the stupendous task which she had undertaken. She would never
dare----
I misjudged her. Aunt Susannah had barely sat down--was, in fact, only
just embarking on her first scone--when Amanda rushed incontinently in
where I, for one, should have feared to tread.
"Dear Aunt Susannah," she said, beaming hospitably, "I'm sure you will
never guess how we mean to amuse you while you are here!"
"Nothing very formidable, I hope?" said Aunt Susannah grimly.
"You'll never, never guess!" said Amanda; and her manner was so
unnaturally sprightly that I knew she was inwardly quaking. "We want to
teach you--what do you think?"
"I think that I'm a trifle old to learn anything new, my dear," said
Aunt Susannah.
I should have been stricken dumb by such a snub. Not so, however, my
courageous wife.
"Well--golf!" she cried, with overdone cheerfulness.
Aunt Susannah started. Recovering herself, she eyed us with a stony
glare which froze me where I sat.
"There is really nothing else to do in these wilds, you know," Amanda
pursued gallantly, though even she was beginning to look frightened.
"And it is such a lovely game. You'll like it immensely."
"_What_ do you say it is called?" asked Aunt Susannah in awful tones.
"Golf," Amanda repeated meekly; and for the first time her voice
shook.
"Spell it!" commanded Aunt Susannah.
Amanda obeyed, with increasing meekness.
"Why do you call it 'goff' if there's an 'l' in it?" asked Aunt
Susannah.
"I--I'm afraid I don't know," said Amanda faintly.
Aunt Susannah sniffed disparagingly. She condescended, however, to
inquire into the nature of the game, and Amanda gave an elaborate
explanation in faltering accents. She glanced imploringly at me; but I
would not meet her eye.
"Then you just try to get a little ball into a little hole?" inquired my
relative.
"And in the fewest possible strokes," Amanda reminded her, gasping.
"And--is that all?" asked Aunt Susannah.
"Y--yes," said Amanda.
"Oh!" said Aunt Susannah.
A game described in cold blood sounds singularly insignificant. We both
fell into sudden silence and depression.
"Well, it doesn't sound _difficult_" said Aunt Susannah. "Oh, yes, I'll
come and play at ball with you if you like, my dears."
"_Dear_ Auntie!" said Amanda affectionately. She did not seem so much
overjoyed at her success, however, as might have been expected. As for
me, I saw a whole sea of breakers ahead; but then I had seen them all
the time.
We drove out to the Links next day. We were both very silent. Aunt
Susannah, however, was in good spirits, and deeply interested in our
clubs.
"What in the world do you want so many sticks for, child?" she inquired
of Amanda.
"Oh, they are for--for different sorts of ground," Amanda explained
feebly; and she cast an agonised glance at our driver, who had obviously
overheard, and was chuckling in an offensive manner.
We both looked hastily and furtively round us when we arrived. We were
early, however, and fortune was kind to us; there was no one else there.
"Perhaps you would like to watch us a little first, just to see how the
game goes?" Amanda suggested sweetly.
"Not at all!" was Aunt Susannah's brisk rejoinder. I've come here to
play, not to look on. Which stick----?"
"_Club_--they are called clubs," said Amanda.
"Why?" inquired Aunt Susannah.
"I--I don't know," faltered Amanda. "Do you Laurence?"