"God will not let this outrage take place," said Mrs. Lowell, her thought leaping back from Miss Emerson to the neglected boy. "I wish I could ask Bertie to go with us, but I feel I must be very careful not to let his uncle suspect the depth of my interest."
"Miss Emerson is very timorous about horned cattle," said Diana. "We can remember that. Sunburn, too. She has a great dread of becoming tanned."
With these encouraging considerations the two amateur detectives stole downstairs. Mrs. Lowell went to the kitchen where Veronica was as usual at this hour drying the breakfast dishes.
"Miss Veronica," she said, "would you do a little missionary work this morning?"
"I'd like to hear about it first," was the cautious reply.
"Veronica is ready for every good word and work, Mrs. Lowell," put in Miss Burridge, "but she's a busy child."
"I know that, but I wondered if she could give half an hour to playing a game of croquet with Bert Gayne."
"Oh, land!" exclaimed the girl, aghast. "He won't want to."
"That's the point, Miss Veronica,"—Mrs. Lowell looked with her loving, radiant gaze into the young girl's eyes. "We want to make him know that young people don't shrink from him. He knows that I don't. I want him to know that an attractive young girl like you doesn't either. You can see that his mind is sick. He has had great sorrow."
"Sure!" said Veronica. "It's sorrow enough to have that uncle of his."