"Well, come on, don't you want a game of draughts?" said Tom,
awkwardly.
"Draughts?" repeated Adela, very much puzzled. "I don't know it."
"Why, what a whopper!" Tom was going to say, but changed it to, "Why, I
saw you playing it last night with Polly Pepper."
"Why, no, you didn't," said Adela, not very politely, "that was
checkers."
"That's the same thing," said Tom, triumphantly, "only you Americans
call it that funny name."
"Well, I think it's a great deal nicer name than draughts," said Adela;
"that's silly."
"Well, checkers; that's senseless," retorted Tom, "and, besides, you
Americans always say 'nice' at everything." Then he looked at her red
eyes and poor little nose, and added kindly, "Well, never mind, call it
checkers, then, I don't care; let's have a game," and he rushed for the
board.
Mrs. Selwyn looked from her corner where she had taken a book, and
smiled to see him playing a game with a girl. Then she nodded over to
Jasper, and he smiled back.
And Adela never once thought how she looked. And she beat Tom twice,
and that quite set her up. And then for the next three games he routed
her men completely off the board. And, strange to say, she kept her
temper, and even smiled at the disaster.
"That's a good game." Old Mr. King came up as the last one was going
on. "Tom, my boy, you play a fine one."
"And she fights well," said Tom, generously.
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