Billie crashed through the elimination sets, crushing her opponents without mercy.
“There she goes!” cried Vi, gnawing the ends of her fingers in her excitement. “6--0, 6--2, 6--0. Rose is down, and she waves a wicked racket, too. Oh, boy, there’s nobody can stand before Billie to-day!”
“Amanda Peabody is doing just as well. I never saw such pretty work in my life. She seems to be top form.”
Vi turned toward the quiet voice and saw Ray Carew standing beside her. She regarded the girl steadily for a long moment.
“Sounds to me as if you were rooting for Amanda, Ray. Are you?”
Rachael had the grace to flush. She avoided Vi’s direct glance.
“No,” she said, and in a moment walked over to join a friend.
When Vi turned again to watch Billie’s smashing service, her clever backhand, her choppy, certain net-work, the enthusiasm she had felt before was definitely overshadowed.
“Billie is just throwing away everything she has gained here by sticking to that wretched Edina Tooker. I can’t think what she sees in the girl. I never liked her, anyway--not from the very first!”
When Billie limped from the courts after a day of smashing victories, having reached the finals with a defeat of only one game, her first words were of praise for her adversaries.
“They were all good fighters and game losers,” she cried, her eyes shining. “Oh, what a day--what a marvelous day! Where’s Laura?”
“You’ve reached the finals, too, haven’t you? Marvelous! We’ll double against Amanda and Eliza to-morrow.”
“Gracious! I haven’t had time to think of it. Now you mention it,” with an experimental wriggle of the injured member, “it does hurt a little. Nothing to speak of, though. Oh, what a day!”
Next day, the great day of the finals, dawned bright and clear, though with a hint of rain which no one took note of on the western horizon. By ten o’clock the ring about the courts was packed solid with spectators.
Billie, warming up her service with Laura, vainly searched the ring of faces for Edina Tooker.
“Hiding up in the dormitory, eating her heart out, poor kid,” thought Billie, and dubbed her ball into the net.
“Hey, Billie!” Laura shouted. “Stop your daydreaming and send me the ball. I can’t pose for the Statue of Liberty all day. My arm waxeth weary.”