sk
you to go and tell Mrs. Barnes that it was you that broke her beautiful
tea-set."
Millie coloured, but she only laughed contemptuously. The rest of the
little crowd looked on and listened, open-mouthed. "Dear me! Have you
really, Miss Poll Pry! Well, now you have asked me you can go home again,
and attend to your own affairs. We don't want you here."
Patty took no notice of her rudeness. "Millie," she pleaded, "you will
tell? You won't let Mona bear the blame."
"I don't know what you're talking about----"
"Oh, yes, you do. I saw you come out. I mean, I thought that was where
you came from. I was just going in to speak to Mona myself, and I found
her----"
"Mona Carne's a sneak."
"No, she isn't."
"Well, she needn't tell her grandmother that she knows anything about it.
It might have been the wind blew the things over, or a cat. If I was Mona
I'd go out to play, and let her come in and find the things."
"Mona couldn't be so mean and underhand. Mrs. Barnes knows about it
already, too."
"Then there's no need for me to tell her," retorted Millie, dancing away.
"Ta-ta, Patty-preacher."
Patty's patience gave out, she could not hide her disgust any longer.
"Millie Higgins, I knew you were a bully and a coward, but I didn't know
how mean a coward you were."
Her voice rang out shrill with indignation, attracting the attention of
everyone around. The children stopped their play to stare; two or three
people stopped their talk to listen. They looked from Patty to Millie,
and back again in shocked surprise. Patty's voice was not so much angry
as it was contemptuous, disgusted. Millie could have better borne anger.
People would then have thought Patty merely a cross child, and have passed
on. Instead of that they looked at her sympathetically, and at Millie
askance.
Millie walked away with her head in the air, but she was furious.
"I'll pay her out!" she thought. "I'll pay her out yet!" She was so
angry she could not get out a retort to Patty. Her words seemed to catch
in her throat and choke her.
Patty walked away to the end of the Quay, and leaned out over the
railings, looking towards the sea. She was disheartened and angry,
and ashamed of herself. She was horribly ashamed of having called out
like that to Millie. It was a mean, common thing to do. She felt she
wanted to get out of sight, to escape the questions and chatter they would
pour into her ears. She would wait wh
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