wished Eaton to be with others unless he himself was by; for Harriet discovered Eaton standing off by himself. She waited till he looked toward her, then signaled him to come over. She got down, and they stood together following the play.
"You know polo?" she questioned him, as she saw the expression of appreciation in his face as a player daringly "rode-off" an antagonist and saved a "cross." She put the question without thought before she recognized that she was obeying her father's instructions.
"I understand the game somewhat," Eaton replied.
"Have you ever played?"
"It seems to deserve its reputation as the summit of sport," he replied.
He answered so easily that she could not decide whether he was evading or not; and somehow, just then, she found it impossible to put the simple question direct again.
"Good! Good, Don!" she cried enthusiastically and clapped her hands as Avery suddenly raced before them, caught the ball with a swinging, back-handed stroke and drove it directly toward his opponent's goal. Instantly whirling his mount, Avery raced away after the ball, and with another clean stroke scored a goal. Every one about cried out in approbation.
"He's very quick and clever, isn't he?" Harriet said to Eaton.
Eaton nodded. "Yes; he's by all odds the most skillful man on the field, I should say."
The generosity of the praise impelled the girl, somehow, to qualify it. "But only two others really have played much—that man and that."
