Twenty-six MAINLY ABOUT GOLF

“That friend of yours is a nice girl, Bundle,” said Lord Caterham.
Loraine had been at Chimneys for nearly a week, and had earned thehigh opinion of her host—mainly because of the charming readiness shehad shown to be instructed in the science of the mashie shot.
Bored by his winter abroad, Lord Caterham had taken up golf. He wasan execrable player and in consequence was profoundly enthusiastic overthe game. He spent most of his mornings lifting mashie shots over variousshrubs and bushes—or, rather, essaying to loft² them, hacking³ large bitsout of the velvety⁴ turf and generally reducing MacDonald to despair.
“We must lay out a little course,” said Lord Caterham, addressing adaisy. “A sporting little course. Now then, just watch this one, Bundle. Offthe right knee, slow back, keep the head still and use the wrists.”
The ball, heavily topped, scudded⁵ across the lawn and disappeared intothe unfathomed depths of a great bank of rhododendrons.
“Curious,” said Lord Caterham. “What did I do then, I wonder? As I wassaying, Bundle, that friend of yours is a very nice girl. I really think I aminducing her to take quite an interest in the game. She hit some excellentshots this morning—really quite as good as I could do myself.”
Lord Caterham took another careless swing and removed an immensechunk of turf. MacDonald, who was passing retrieved⁶ it and stamped itfirmly back. The look he gave Lord Caterham would have caused anyonebut an ardent⁷ golfer to sink through the earth.
“If MacDonald has been guilty of cruelty to Cootes, which I strongly sus-pect,” said Bundle, “he’s being punished now.”
“Why shouldn’t I do as I like in my own garden?” demanded her father.
“MacDonald ought to be interested in the way my game is coming on—theScotch are a great golfing nation.”
“You poor old man,” said Bundle. “You’ll never be a golfer—but at anyrate it keeps you out of

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