"Vera!" cried a shocked mamma.
Mrs. Poynter rose and came forward, but Miss Vera was evidently not afraid of her mammy. She kicked out her pretty silk-clad legs, and went on quite calmly:
"She says you're very nasty to Dr. Darkham, but that you do love Dr. Dillwyn."
The little, sweet, shrill voice carried very far—too far. Mrs. Greatorex looked up.
As for Mrs. Poynter, she was crimson. She was afraid to look at Agatha, who felt as if her heart was going to stop beating. She bent over Vera—who was playing with her bangles, all unconscious of the bombshell she had just discharged—to hide her face. Mrs. Poynter was speaking to the child: "Vera, how naughty! You are a very bold child."
"'Be bolde, be bolde, and everywhere be bolde,'" quoted Mr. Browne promptly. He picked up the small sinner from Agatha's lap and perched her on his shoulder. "I say let's go down and see what they are doing on the courts."
Agatha eagerly rose and went with him. When they had reached the courts the children ran away, and Agatha turned a very distressed face to him.
"Wasn't it unfortunate?" she said. "I am sure Aunt Hilda heard her. Why should the child have said just the wrong thing?"
"Give him a hint. Tell him to be sensible for once in his life, and keep out of her way."
"If I could do that."