The Major Part 23

"Sure thing," said Larry.

Mrs. Gwynne received the young man with hand stretched far out to meet him.

"You made us lose the game, Mrs. Gwynne," said Duckworth in a half-shamed manner, "and that is one reason why I came to see you again."

"I?" exclaimed Mrs. Gwynne.

"Well, you quoted Scripture against us, and you know you can't stand up against Scripture and hope to win, can you?" said Duckworth with a laugh.

"Sit down here beside me, Mr. Duckworth," she said, her eyes shining.

"I won't pretend not to understand you;" she continued when he had taken his place beside her. "I can't tell you how proud I am of you."

"Thank you," said Duckworth. "I like to hear that. You see I never thought about it very much. I am not excusing myself."

"No, I know you are not, but I heard about it, Mr. Duckworth. We all think so much of you. I am sure your mother is proud of you."

Young Duckworth sat silent, his eyes fastened upon the ground.

"Please forgive me. Perhaps she is--no longer with you," said Mrs.

Gwynne softly, laying her hand upon his. Duckworth nodded, refusing to look at her and keeping his lips firmly pressed together. "I was wrong in what I said just now," she continued. "She is with you still; she knows and follows all your doings, and I believe she is proud of you."

Duckworth cleared his throat and said with an evident effort, "You made me think of her to-day, and I simply had to play up. I must go now. I must see the fellows." He rose quickly to his feet.

"Come and see us, won't you?" said Mrs. Gwynne.

"Won't I just," replied Duckworth, holding her hand a moment or two. "I can't tell you how glad I am that I met you to-day."

"Oh, wait, Mr. Duckworth. Nora, come here. I want you to meet my second daughter. Nora, this is Mr. Duckworth, the Captain."

"Oh, I know him, the Captain of the enemy," cried Nora.

"Of our friends, Nora," said her mother.

"All right, of our friends, now that we have beaten you, but I want to tell you, Mr. Duckworth, that I could gladly have slain you many times to-day."

"And why, pray?"

"Oh, you were so terribly dangerous, and as for Larry, why you just played with him. It was perfectly maddening to me."

"All the same your brother got away from me and shot the winning goal.

He's fearfully fast."

"A mere fluke, I tell him."

"Don't you think it for one little minute. It was a neat bit of work."

CHAPTER X

THE SPIRIT Of CANADA

Whatever it was that rendered it necessary for Duckworth to "see the fellows," that necessity vanished in the presence of Nora.

"Are you going to take in the polo?" he asked.

"Am I? Am I going to continue breathing?" cried Nora. "Come along, Mother, we must go if we are to get a good place."

"May I find one for you," said Mr. Duckworth, quite forgetting that he "must see the fellows," and thinking only of his good luck in falling in with such a "stunning-looking girl." He himself had changed into flannels, and with his athletic figure, his brown, healthy face, brown eyes and hair, was a thoroughly presentable young man. He found a place with ease for his party, a dozen people offering to make room for them.

As Mr. Duckworth let his eyes rest upon the young lady at his side his sense of good-fortune grew upon him, for Nora in white pique skirt and batiste blouse smartly girdled with a scarlet patent leather belt, in white canvas shoes and sailor hat, made a picture good to look at. Her dark olive brown skin, with rich warm colour showing through the sunburn of her cheeks, her dark eyes, and her hair for once "done up in style"

under Kathleen's supervision, against the white of her costume made her indeed what her escort thought, "a stunning-looking girl." Usually careless as to her appearance, she had yielded to Kathleen's persuasion and had "gotten herself up to kill." No wonder her friends of both s.e.xes followed her with eyes of admiration, for no one envied Nora, her frank manner, her generous nature, her open scorn at all attempts to win admiration, made her only friends.

"Bring your mother over here," cried Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, who rejoiced exceedingly in the girl's beauty. "Why, how splendidly you are looking to-day," she continued in a more confidential tone as the party grouped themselves about her. "What have you been doing to yourself? You are looking awfully fine."

"Am I?" said Nora, exceedingly pleased with herself. "I am awfully glad.

It is all Kathleen's doing. I got me the belt and the hat new for this show."

"Very smart, that belt, my dear," said her friend.

"I rather fancy it myself, and Kathleen would do up my hair in this new way," said Nora, removing her hat that the full glory of her coiffure might appear. "Do you like it?"

"Perfectly spiffing!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Duckworth, who had taken a seat just behind her chair.

Nora threw him a challenging glance that made that young man's heart skip a beat or two as all the excitements of the match had not.

"Are you a judge?" said the girl, tipping her saucy chin at him.

"Am I? With four sisters and dozens of cousins to practise on, I fancy I might claim to be a regular bench show expert."

"Then," cried Nora with sudden animation, "you are the very man I want."

"Thank you so much," replied Mr. Duckworth fervently.

"I mean, perhaps you can advise me. Now as you look at me--" The young man's eyes burned into hers so that with all her audacity Nora felt the colour rising in her face. "Which would you suggest as the most suitable style for me, the psyche knot or the neck roll?"

"I beg your pardon? I rather--"

"Or would you say the French twist?"

"Ah, the French twist--"

"Or simply marcelled and pomped?"

"I am afraid--"

"Or perhaps the pancake or the coronet?"