Returning to her chair, Miriam said, "Connie is having her over tomorrow afternoon. We're going to teach her to play bridge. You play, don't you?"Mavi... nodded vacantly. There had been a standing joke at BYU that bridge was an audit course attended between classes."Why don't you join us, honey; it takes four to play."There was that impish, secretive tone in Miriam's voice again. And Mavis' mind tormented her--play what? A mental picture of Terry Lewis flashed in her mind. She was a small young. He really was the same Mark she had last seen four years ago: sweet, gentle but now with a touch of steel. She bit her lip as a wave of warmth washed over her. What she had said last night was true. She did love him as an elder brother. Now he was just the same: an elder brother but slightly more mature and assured. Wasn't he?The stables at Bulford were small and clearly run on a shoestring. The owner was a gaunt woman of few words but clearly knew her horses. She concentrated on giving riding. More

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