Elaine and I had agreed to play a couple of games and were tossing rackets for position.

“Very well,” laughed Elaine, as she won the toss, “take the other court.”

It was a cool day and I felt in good spirits.  Just to see whether I could do it still, I jumped over the net.

Our game had scarcely started when we were interrupted by the approach of a stunning looking woman.

“Miss Dodge?” she greeted.  “Will you excuse me a moment?”

Elaine paused in serving the ball and the woman handed her a card from her delicate gold mesh bag.  It read simply: 

Mme. Larenz Paris Gowns

Elaine looked at the card a moment while the woman repeated what she had already told Aunt Josephine.

“You have them here, then?” queried Elaine, interested.

“Yes, I have some very exclusive models which I am showing at my suite in the St. Germain.”

“Oh, how lovely,” exclaimed Elaine.  “I must see them.”

They talked a few minutes, while I waited patiently for Elaine to start the game again.  That game, however, was destined never to be finished.  More weighty matters were under discussion.

I wondered what they were talking about and, suppressing a yawn, I walked toward them.  As I approached, I heard scattered remarks about styles and dress fabrics.

Elaine had completely forgotten tennis and me.  She took a couple of steps away from the court with the woman, as I came up.

“Aren’t you going to play?” I asked.

“I know you’ll excuse me, Walter,” smiled Elaine.  “My frocks are all so frightfully out of date.  And here’s a chance to get new ones, very reasonably, too.”

They walked off and I could not help scowling at the visitor.  On toward the house Elaine and Madame Larenz proceeded and around it to the front porch where Aunt Josephine was standing.

“Just think, Auntie,” cried Elaine, “real Paris gowns down here without the trouble of going to the city—­and cheaply, too.”

Aunt Josephine was only mildly interested, but that did not seem to worry Madame Larenz.

“I shall be glad to see you at three, Miss Dodge,” she said as she got into her car again and drove off.

By that time, I had caught up with Elaine again.  “Just one game,” I urged.

“Please excuse me,—­this time, Walter,” she pleaded, laughing.  “You don’t know how sadly I’m in need of new frocks.”

It was no use of further urging her.  Tennis was out of her mind for good that day.  Accordingly, I mounted to my room and there quickly donned my riding clothes.

When I came down, I found Aunt Josephine still on the veranda.  In addition to my horse which I had telephoned for, Elaine’s little runabout had been driven to the door.  While I was talking to Aunt Josephine, Elaine came down-stairs and walked over to the car.

“May I go with you?” I pleaded.