Pennie and she were both silent. Miss Unity’s thoughts had perhaps travelled to that far-off country where the mandarin had lived, but Pennie’s were nearer home.
“Then,” she said half aloud, “I suppose it really would be better to collect for Kettles.”
The voice at her side woke Miss Unity from her day-dream. The last word fell on her ear.
“Kettles, my dear!” she said. “What do you want with kettles?”
“It’s a person,” explained Pennie, “a little girl. We saw her at old Nurse’s. And Nancy wants to give her a new pair of boots and stockings.”
“Does she live with old Nurse?” asked Miss Unity.
“Oh, no!” answered Pennie. “She only came in for the tea-leaves. She lives in Anchoranopally.”
“Where?” said Miss Unity in a surprised voice.
“Oh!” cried Pennie with a giggle of amusement, “I forgot you wouldn’t understand. Nancy and I always call it that when we talk together. It really is the ‘Anchor and Hope Alley,’ you know, turning out of the High Street close to the College.”
Poor Miss Unity became more and more confused every moment. It all sounded puzzling and improper to her. “Kettles” coming in for tea-leaves, and living in “Anchoranopally.” How could Pennie have become familiar with such a child?