voice of Tommy said "Come here," and the unfortunate young man hesitated which to obey. The lady saw his hesitation, and, purposely to vex Mr. Clendon, settled the question at once.

"Mr. Maxwell, come here. I want you to play lawn-tennis."

"Certainly, Miss Valpy," said Maxwell, with sulky civility.

"Why, I asked you to play twice this afternoon, and you refused," cried Clendon, in some anger.

"Well, I've changed my mind But you can play also, if you like."

"No, thank you. I've--I've got an engagement."

Tommy moved close to the young man and laughed.

"You've got a very cross face."

At this Clendon laughed also, and his cross face cleared.

"Oh, I'll be delighted to play."

"And what about Miss Pethram?" asked Maxwell, rather anxiously.

"Miss Pethram has gone inside to await the arrival of the post."

"Isn't she coming out again?"

"I think not."

"If you will excuse me, Miss Valpy, I won't play just at present."

"Oh, never mind."

So Maxwell stalked away in a very bad temper with himself, with Miss Pethram, and with everything else. In any one but a lover it would have been sulks, but in the ars amoris it is called despair.

Tommy held her racket like a guitar, and, strumming on it with her fingers, hummed a little tune--a vulgar little tune which she had picked up from a common street boy--

"Tho' I'm an earl,

And she's a girl,

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