Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 213, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 September 1918 — TENNIS [ARTICLE]

TENNIS

By R. ESTELLE EVERETT.

(Copyright, 1918, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) , . I Geoffrey Hilton tossed a penny on the counter, caught up a newspaper and hurried Into the waiting car. He opened his paper, and after finishing an article, was about to tarn the page when he heard a smothered and disappointed “Oh !” beside him. He turned and discovered that he was sitting beside a very attractive girl dressed In sports clothes, carrying a tennis racquet Her golden hair curled about her face bewitchingly: she turned her head so quickly that Hilton received only the tiniest glimpse of blue eyes. He opened the paper to where it was before and searched diligently for what had so interested the beautiful stranger. His search was of no avail, however, and soon the girl got off. Rearing his stop, and turning to press the button, Hilton noticed a postcard lying on the next seat addressed to the firm of which he was an employe. He picked it up, slipped it into his pocket and promptly forgot all about it At his club several hours later while He was smoking his after-dinner cigar Hilton’s mind wandered to the girl on the car. Thoughts of her reminded him of the card which probably she dropped, and he fished it out of his pocket. Being careful not to read the message, he just glanced at the signature —Rosalie Earnshaw, 340 Somerset avenue. “By Jove,” he murmured, “Jack Warren lives at 343. I wonder if he knows her.” -■ The next day, accidently on purpose, Geoffrey Hilton happened to stroll by Jack Warren’s place of business just gs the latter was leaving for lunch. The two old collegemates were glad to meet again, and Joyfully talked over old times. After a little maneuvering Hilton obtained for himself an invita-, tion to dinner at the Warrens’ that evening. ' As it was still light after dinner, thanks to Uncle Sam’s light-saving idea, the two men had a set of tennis. After Mrs. Warren came out they had another delightful hour on the veranda. It was with great Interest that Hilton watched the house across the street. Suddenly a light glowed in one of the upper windows, and his girl of the car appeared to pull down the curtain. . '.. - “Nice girl—Rosalie Earnshaw,” remarked Warren. “Do you know her, Jeff?” “I believe I’ve seen her once or twice,” replied Hilton, “but I do not know her.” • “Say, Beth,” cried Jack, “I’ve a corking idea! Let’s invite her and Jeff Wednesday < evening for dinner and have a couple of set of doubles.” “Why, it wAuld be lovely,” agreed his wife. “Could you come, Mr. Hilton?” “With the greatest of pleasure.” said Hilton, heartily. Soon Hilton bade his friends goodnight and departed, promising to be there Wednesday That night he dreamed that he was at the Warrens’ playing tennis with Rosalie. Somehow his racquet twisted and he sent the ball he was serving directly into Rosalie’s face! Stunned by the blow; Rosalie, fainting, dropped to the ground. Hilton rushed for water, arid awoke to find himself kneeling on the floor liberally besprinkling the rug with water. Wednesday was an ideal August day. Hilton strode gayly along Somerset avenue, swinging his racquet, his heart keeping time to his quick footsteps. As Mrs. Warren introduced him to Miss Earnshaw, he fancied that she grew a shade pinker, but he wasn’t sure. She gave him her hand and a beautiful smile in such a way that Jack asked: “Have you two met before?” Hilton looked at Miss Earnshaw interrogatively. She replied: “We’ve never spoken, but Mr. Hilton very kindly permitted me to read his paper' one evening.” Geoffrey was dumfounded —that she should remember; be never even imagined—luckily the Japanese gong announcing dinner sounded, and the group went into the dining room. Mrs. Warren, ardent matchmaker that she was, made Rosalie and Hilton partners in the tennis Which followed. All four were excellent- players and there was a hard tussle for the'games. They played until it was so dark they had to stop, leaving the score a tie. Very often in the fortnight which followed Hilton was to be found in the vicinity of Somerset avenue — either at Rosalie’s or the Warrens’. They had many delightful tennis gtynes and canoe trips on the near-by lake. One afternoon in late September Geoffrey and Rosalie were idly drifting across the like in a canoe, when Geoffrey asked* Rosalie to share the rest of his life with him.