“That’s not much of a secret,” said Mary. “Is that all?”
“Of course not. It’s only the beginning. They said a lot which I didn’t hear, and then Rice told Fraülein a long story in a very low voice, and Fraülein held up her hands and called out ‘Himmel!’ But the part I really did hear was the last bit.”
“Well,” said Mary, “what was it? I don’t think anything of what you’ve told me yet.”
“‘These awful words fell upon my ears,’” said Jackie gloomily, quoting from a favourite ghost story: “‘As brown as a berry, and her name’s no more Mary Vallance than mine is!’”
“But I’m not as brown as a berry,” said Mary. “You must have heard wrong. They couldn’t have been talking about me at all.”
“I know they were,” said Jackie with decision, “for when Fraülein saw me she nodded at Rice and put her finger on her lip, and Rice said something about ‘buried in his book.’ You see,” added Jackie, “I didn’t really listen, but I heard—because I couldn’t help it.”
Wensdale was now in sight, and five minutes afterwards the dog-cart stopped at the vicarage gate.
“Don’t tell anyone else,” whispered Mary hurriedly as she clambered down. “I’m going to ask mother about it.”
She ran into the house feeling rather excited, but almost sure that Jackie was mistaken. He often made muddles. What was her astonishment, therefore, after pouring out the story breathlessly, when Mrs Vallance, instead of laughing at the idea, only looked very grave and kept silence.
“Of course I am Mary Vallance, ain’t I, mother?” she repeated.