There was such an emphatic conviction in Noel's tone that Inez looked quickly round; then she laughed uneasily.
"I hope He didn't hear me say I didn't like church," she said, "and I didn't like Him. But that's how I'm wicked, they all say so. I care for nobody and nobody cares for me. And now let's jump over those flower-beds: we've been grave enough."
They were back in the garden by this time, and of course in jumping the flower-beds Inez missed the distance and landed herself in the middle of one, breaking a young azalea to pieces and making havoc of some small seedlings planted.
"There now, that's a wickedness!" said Inez ruefully, as she surveyed the disaster. "Now, what will your mother say to me? Shall I tell her that a wild dog came in from the road and did it, or some pigs? Do you keep pigs?"
"We've got to tell her truefully if we do fings," said Noel.
Then Diana appeared, saying that tea was ready. She was consulted about the damaged flower-bed.
"Here is Mums coming out," she said. "She won't be angry."
And Mrs. Inglefield was not. She smiled at Inez, called her a little tomboy, and asked her not to do it again. Then they went upstairs to the nursery to tea.
There were hot buttered scones, plum cake, honey, and some fancy biscuits. Inez enjoyed her tea thoroughly.
"I hope you'll come to tea with me very soon," she said; "but I'm afraid they won't give us so good a tea as this. I should like you to come the end of this week: will you? We've a lovely big house to play hide-and-seek in!"