Grace’s fears were, in this instance, groundless, for Eleanor played a perfectly fair game from start to finish, and proved herself a powerful antagonist.  Her serves were as straight and accurate as a boy’s, and she played with great spirit and agility.  Indeed, the sides were so evenly matched that junior excitement rose high and numerous boxes of Huyler’s were wagered against the result.  The game stood forty-all.  Two vantages scored in succession were needed by one side to win.  Grace forgot everything but the fact that she desired the victory.  With her, going into a game meant winning it.  Five minutes later the match was over.  She and Miriam had won against worthy opponents.

“That was an evenly matched game,” exclaimed Nora, as Grace and Miriam strolled to where their friends were seated upon the grass.  “You played like professionals.”

“Eleanor is a better player than Edna Wright,” said Grace.  “Her serves are wonderful.  We had all we could do to hold our own.”

“There’s a trout brook over there,” said Nora, “and I had forethought enough to borrow a fishing rod and line from Hippy.  It is jointed, so it didn’t get in any one’s way.  I left it with the lunch baskets.  Therefore, as I’m not afraid of angle worms, I’m going to dig some bait and fish.  Want to come?”

“Not I,” laughed Anne.  “Miriam and I are going up under the trees and read Browning.”

“The idea of going to a picnic and reading!” exclaimed Jessica.  “Come on, girls, let’s go with Nora.”  She hastily rose, brushed off her gown and followed in Nora’s wake, accompanied by Eva and Marian.

“Come with us, dear,” said Anne to Grace, who stood looking dreamily toward a patch of woods to the left.

“No indeed,” replied Grace.  “I’m going to explore a little in those woods yonder.”

“Don’t go far,” called Anne anxiously, as Grace turned to go.

“I won’t,” she answered.  “See you later.”

As she reached the cool shadows of the little strip of woods she drew a long breath.  How delightful it was to hear the rustle of the leaves over her head, and tread upon Nature’s green carpet of soft, thick moss.  Forgetful of her promise, Grace wandered farther and farther on, gathering the wild flowers as she went.  She found plenty of trilliums and violets, and pounced with a cry of delight upon some wild pink honeysuckle just opening.  After stripping the bush, she turned into a bypath that led straight up a little hill which rose before her.  Scrambling up the hill, Grace reached the top and looked about her.  Nestling at the foot of the elevation on the side opposite to the one she had climbed stood a small one-story cottage.

“How funny,” thought Grace.  “I didn’t know there was a house anywhere near here.  I’m going down there for a drink of water.  I’m awfully thirsty.”

Suiting the action to the words, Grace hurried toward the cottage.  As she neared it she noticed that the door was wide open.  “Some one is at home, that’s certain,” she said to herself.  “I hope they won’t be cross at my asking for a drink.  Why,” she exclaimed, “there’s no one living here at all.  I think I’ll venture in, perhaps there’s a well at the back of the house.”