“Ces!” said Rose warningly.
“Yes, she did. That was because I bowled her out first ball, just as easy as anything. And the bails stayed on, Mummie, and only the middle stump went down, really and truly.”
She knew, necessarily, that he must be boasting, and the circumstantial details with which he amplified his story made her, from previous experience, forlornly certain that he knew himself to be inventing.
“When did this happen?”
“Last night, when we played on the lawn after tea.”
“Well, I know you did play on the lawn with Uncle Ford and Diana and Miss Wade. But she didn’t really say you bowled better than Hugh Charlesbury, now did she, Ces? You only said that for fun, didn’t you?”
Her coaxing voice pleaded with him for the admission.
“I can’t help it if you won’t believe me, Mummie,” said Cecil with dignity, “but it’s perfectly true all the same.”
Miss Wade descended upon them with her usual air of timorous determination.
“Come along, Cecil dear, it’s time to go out. You’d like me to bowl to you, wouldn’t you? Remember what Miss Grierson-Amberly said to us last night!”