She paused, frightened at her own boldness. She had meant to approach the subject in the most delicate and gradual manner, and now she had rushed into the very thick of it at once.
Mrs Hawthorne looked puzzled; she frowned a little.
“I do not understand,” she said, “what Mrs Merridew can have to do with Pennie’s writing too much.”
“Oh nothing, nothing in the world!” hastily replied Miss Unity; “of course not. I have always said it’s for you to judge—but I said I would ask you to let the children join. Mr Deville’s going to teach them. The Merridews are nice girls, don’t you think?” she added wistfully, for she saw no answering approval on Mrs Hawthorne’s face. “I knew I should offend Mary,” she said to herself.
Even when the arrangement with all its advantages was fully explained, Mrs Hawthorne did not seem at all eager about it. She had once thought, she said, of sending the children to Miss Cannon’s class, but the distance was the difficulty, and that would remain in this case.
Then Miss Unity made her last effort.
“As to that,” she said breathlessly, “I thought of asking you to allow me to give Pennie some lessons, and I should be pleased for her to sleep at my house after the class every week, if you had no objection.”
But Mrs Hawthorne still hesitated. It was most kind of Miss Unity, but she feared it would trouble her to have Pennie so often; yet she did not like to refuse such a very kind offer, and no doubt the lessons would be good for the child. Finally, after a great many pros and cons, it was settled that the vicar’s opinion should be asked, and then Miss Unity knew that Mary had decided the matter in her own mind. Her offer was to be accepted. So she had done her best for her god-daughter, and if it were not successful her conscience would at least be at rest.
Perhaps no one realised what an effort it had been to her, and what real self-sacrifice such an offer involved. She was fond of Pennie, but to have the regularity of her household disturbed by the presence of a child every week—the bustle of arrival and departure, the risk of broken china, the possible upsetting of Betty’s temper; all this was torture to look forward to, and when she went to bed she felt that she was paying dearly for a quiet conscience.
But if it was a trial to Miss Unity it was none the less so to Pennie, who looked upon herself as a sort of victim chosen out of the family to be sacrificed. She was to go alone to the deanery without Nancy, and learn to dance with the Merridews, who were almost strangers to her. It was a most dreadful idea. Quite enough to spoil Nearminster, or the most pleasant place on earth. However, mother said so, and it must be done; but from the moment she heard of it Pennie did not cease to groan and lament.