"Oh, well," Jackie acknowledged, "that might not be so pleasant; but," he added, "you might be his daughter, and help to feed the birds, and serve in the shop." Mary tossed her head. "What's the good of talking like that?" she said; "I'm _not_ his daughter, and I'm sure I don't want to be." "But you're always fond of pretending things," persisted Jackie. "Supposing you _could_ change, whose daughter would you like to be?" "Well," said Mary, after a little reflection, "if I could change I should like to be a countess, or a princess, or a Lady somebody. Lady Mary Vallance sounds rather nice, I think." Just then the squire came out of the shop, and they soon started rapidly homewards. "Mary," said Jackie, squeezing himself close up to her, when they were well on the way, and lowering his voice mysteriously, "I've got a secret to tell you." Jackie's secrets were never very important, and Mary was not prepared to be interested in this one. "Have you?" she said absently; "look at all those crows in that field." "Oh, if you don't want to hear it--" said Jackie, drawing back with a hurt expression; "it's something to do with you, too." "Well, what is it?" said Mary; "I'm listening." "I haven't told Agatha, or Jennie, or Patrick," continued he in an injured voice. "Why, it wouldn't be a secret if you had," said Mary. "Go on; I really want to hear it." "It was yesterday," began Jackie, lowering his voice again; "I was sitting in the school-room window-seat reading, and Rice came in with a message for Fraulein. And then she stayed talking about lots of things, and then they began to talk about you." Jackie paused. "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 Fraulein a long story in a very low voice, and Fraulein 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 Fraulein 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."