“Perhaps you’ll see her at the College again,” said Nancy, “or perhaps Miss Unity will know about her, or perhaps the dean goes to see her father and mother.”
“That I’m sure he doesn’t,” said Pennie with conviction. “Why, I don’t suppose he even knows where Anchoranopally is.”
“Father goes to see all the people in Easney,” said Nancy, “so why shouldn’t Dr Merridew go to see Kettles?”
“I don’t know why he shouldn’t,” said Pennie, “but I’m quite sure he doesn’t. At any rate I’m not going to ask him anything. I hope I sha’n’t see him at all. Oh, why should people learn dancing? What good can it be?”
Nancy’s muttered reply showed that she was very nearly asleep, so for that night there was no further conversation about Pennie’s dancing, but it was by no means altogether given up. On the contrary it was a very favourite topic with all the children, for it seemed to have added to their eldest sister’s dignity to be singled out as the only one to join the class at Nearminster.
“Why isn’t Nancy to go too?” asked Ambrose one afternoon as he carefully put the last touches to a picture he was drawing for Dickie; it was a fancy portrait of Pennie learning to dance, with her dress held out very wide, and an immense toe pointed in the air. The children were all in the school-room engaged in various ways, for it was a wet afternoon; even Dickie, having grown tired of the nursery, had insisted on coming down until tea-time,—and now stood on tiptoe by Ambrose, watching the progress of the picture with breathless interest.
Pennie looked up from her writing at her brother’s question.
“Because Miss Unity only asked me,” she answered with a sort of groan.
“Is she fondest of you?” asked David from the background. He had not spoken for a long time, for he was deeply engaged in what he called “putting his cupboard to rights.”
The four oldest children each possessed a cupboard below the book-shelves, where they were supposed to keep their toys and private property. David was very particular about his cupboard, and could not bear to find any stray articles belonging to the others put away in it. He kept it very neat, and all the curious odds and ends in it were carefully arranged, each in its proper place. Just now he had turned them all out on the floor, and was kneeling in front of them with his hands in his pockets.