"Bab, Bab! What is the matter with you!" cried Mollie, for Barbara had
thrown herself on the bed after their return from the ball, bursting
into a torrent of tears.
"Oh, I don't know," sobbed Bab. "I must be wrong, or crazy, or
something. Yet how can people doubt their own eyes?"
Mollie stopped spreading out her butterfly dress, in which she had
looked so pretty at the party, and flung her arms round her sister.
"Just tell me what is the matter, dear! Has anyone hurt your feelings?
If it's that Gladys Le Baron I'll certainly get even with her!"
But Bab didn't answer.
"I'm going to call Ruth," said Mollie. "I don't want to waken Aunt
Sallie, but you seemed queer all the way home from the ball."
Bab sat up, when Ruth came in, and dried her eyes.
"I am so sorry you feel so badly, Barbara, dear," said Ruth, "but, of
course, it was a wretched mistake for you to have made. Let's try to
forget that horrid scene. Some servant will pick up the necklace in the
morning, and return it to Mrs. Post. Hugh and I have decided that it
will be wise for those of us who were in the conservatory just at the
last not to speak of what happened. You will forgive us, Mollie, dear,
won't you, if we don't tell even you?"
"No, I won't!" cried Mollie, stamping her little slippered foot. "Bab
can't have secrets that make her cry--not from her own sister. And I
don't see, anyway, what Bab has to do with Mrs. Post having lost her
emerald necklace. If you think the loss is a secret, you're wrong,
because everybody in the ballroom was whispering it about half an hour
afterwards. I heard of it from a perfect stranger!"
"Mollie," said Ruth quietly, "will you please do me a favor? Don't ask
Barbara to tell you what happened that has worried her. It was nothing
but an unfortunate mistake, and will all blow over in the morning."
"Very well, Ruth," agreed Mollie. "I won't ask. But I am not a baby, and
I am very sure it would be better if I were told."
Thus poor Bab had no one in whom to confide, and had to bear her ugly
secret all alone.
Ruth kissed her good night, saying: "Cheer up, silly girl, and sleep
late as you can in the morning. You know, it's to be the last day of our
tennis practice, and you are going to beat me tomorrow!"
Ruth tiptoed over to Mollie, who was undressing in silence. "Mistress
Mollie," she said, "forgive me; do, please, like a dear. Talking about
horrid things only makes them _horrider_!"
Ruth, in the depths of her heart, thought that Barbara had been most
unwise in her hinted accusation of Harry Townsend. For Bab's sake she
thought it best for everyone to forget what had happened. It was a fault
in Ruth's nature that she loved only pleasant things, and would often
give up, even when she knew she was right, in order not to make trouble.
The next morning a Barbara of heavy eyes and white cheeks joined the
players on the tennis court.
Plainly Harry had confided what had happened to Gladys, for she did not
speak to Bab as she came up to her, but tossed her head and bit her
lips. Gladys said nothing, however, for Harry had made her promise she
would not breathe what he had told her.
As for Mr. Townsend, he treated Barbara with cold politeness. But
Barbara was beginning to have her eyes opened. "If I am right about
him," she thought to herself, "then I shall have to be very careful. I
believe he is more clever than any of us dream!"
It was Hugh whose manner was most constrained. He could not forgive the
scene of the night before, in which he had been forced to take an
unwilling part. Not until Ruth called him over to her, and gave him a
lecture, did he beg Bab's pardon, and ask that they all forget the
experience of the night before.
"Come on!" he called, cheerily, to the group of tennis players. "It's do
or die to-day--the last test day for us. It will show us who is to
represent our crowd at the tournament. The girl and the fellow who can
beat all the rest of us stand a good chance of winning the silver cup.
Mrs. Cartwright says she has been closely following the game of the star
players and she thinks we have them beaten to a finish. Come on, Ruth,
let's show 'em that we're out for blood!"
Swish! Barbara's ball flew over the net and curved toward the ground at
Hugh's left. Not too swiftly for that young gentleman; while Ruth's
heart gave a jump of apprehension, Hugh made a left-hand swing with his
racquet and sent the ball whizzing back.
"Fifteen!" Ralph called out, in a bored tone. He had failed in his
return.
The battle raged all morning.
Grace and Donald Cartwright, Gladys and Mr. Townsend were soon out of
the running. When they had finished they sank gratefully on the ground,
to watch the others play.
The field was thus left to Barbara and Ralph, to Ruth and Hugh. The sets
stood even, and two more games would decide.
A small crowd of visitors stood around the court. Mrs. Cartwright,
having finished her own game, came over to look on. Miss Sallie was
trying to be impartial, but she was really deeply interested in Ruth's
success. Mrs. Erwin, Mrs. Post, the governor, all their friends, were
lined up to behold the battle.
A subdued discussion of the lost emeralds had been going on at the
Casino all morning. After a thorough search of every inch of Mrs.
Erwin's house and grounds, there was still no sign of the jewels; but
Governor Post and Mrs. Erwin had made every effort to have the scandal
of the necklace hushed up. They had seen the Newport detectives, and had
telegraphed to New York for two experts to be sent down to handle the
case. In the meantime they had been advised not to talk.
Now the only upright person, who could have given them any information
had, for just a little while, forgotten all about it. Whatever Barbara
did she did with her whole heart. Today she played tennis.
"Ralph," Hugh called, "remember, now, it's two straight games to finish
the way we stand!"
There was no more conversation. Even the watchers held their breath. The
referee sat on the ground, rapidly calling out the
score--"forty--thirty--deuce!"
"Is this game to go on forever?" Miss Sallie inquired, plaintively. "My
girls will be wholly worn out."
"Advantage in!" shouted the referee.
Ralph sprang forward for his ball; his foot slipped. Barbara, who had
been expecting him to return it, was not ready.
"Game!"
Ruth and Hugh shook hands with each other. But Hugh called over: "Say,
Ralph, was this game all right? You turned your ankle, didn't you?"
"Surely I did," said Ralph. "I was an idiot, but it is your game just
the same. I'll make it up next time, Barbara--see if I don't!"
"My dear Ruth," said Miss Sallie, "I cannot permit it. You will be
exhausted."
"Here, Barbara," said Mollie, "do try to get your breath, and let me fix
up your hair."
"No prinking!" Ralph called out. "This is business, ladies!"
The good old Casino courts never saw a finer tennis battle. Ralph and
Bab played as though they had forgotten their talk in the woods that day
when they had tea at Mrs. Duffy's. Ruth and Hugh were foeman worthy of
their best steel.
The game stood forty-all, and it was Bab's serve. Bab's serves were what
made her tennis remarkable. They were as swift and straight and true as
a boy's.
Hugh stood ready waiting. Barbara caught a look in Ruth's face, on the
other side of the net. Her big blue eyes, frank and clear as a baby's,
were glowing with interest, with hope, with ambition! Like a flash the
thought of all Ruth had done for them came into Bab's mind. Did it
weaken the force of her drive? Or was it because her mind was
distracted? The ball fell just inside the net on her own side.
"Try again, partner mine!" shouted Ralph, "show 'em what you're made
of!"
This time Barbara was plainly nervous. She felt that nearly all the
friends around them wanted Ruth to win. They would be delighted, of
course, with her success and kind to her, but open-hearted and
open-handed Ruth was the favorite with them all; at least, Bab thought
so.
With returning courage, Bab hit her last ball a hard blow. It rose high
in the air! Hugh sprang on his tiptoes to receive it and gave a mighty
shout. The ball had fallen outside the line.
Ralph and Barbara were the first to congratulate the victors. Barbara
cleared the net with a bound, forgetting both her age and her audience.
"There, Ruth, you and Hugh are the best players that ever happened!"
Barbara spoke with a glowing face. Then she turned to Ralph: "I lost the
game for you," she said. "I am so sorry."
"Oh, no, you didn't, my lady," said Ralph. "I lost the game before this
one, so we're even."
An admiring circle had formed around Ruth and Hugh.
"Your father will be delighted, I know, child," said Miss Sallie.
"I haven't won the cup yet, Auntie," protested Ruth.
"But you must, child," said Mrs. Cartwright, smiling. "I am betting on
you and Hugh in the tournament, and you mustn't make me lose my box of
candy."
"Barbara," said Ralph, shyly, as they walked off toward home a little
later, "I don't like to ask you, but did you mean to miss those last
serves?"
Barbara shook her head. "No," she said, "I don't think I meant to. I
don't know. But they were the best players, weren't they, Ralph?"
"Certainly," Ralph answered.