“There has been an accident, Nancy. The mandarin is broken. I fear you will never see him nod his head again.”
“Oh, what a pity!” exclaimed Nancy. “Who did it?” Then turning to her sister with an alarmed face, “Was it you?”
“I hope not,” said Mrs Hawthorn, leaning forward and looking earnestly at Pennie.
In fact everyone was looking at her just then—Miss Unity with sorrow, Mrs Hawthorn with anxiety, and Nancy with fear. How delightful it was to be able at last to stand straight up, and answer triumphantly with a clear conscience, “No!”
At that little word everyone looked relieved except Miss Unity, and her face was graver than before as she said:
“Then, Pennie, why didn’t you say so?”
“You never asked me,” said Pennie proudly.
Miss Unity’s frown relaxed a little; she bethought herself that she really never had asked the child; she had taken it for granted, judging only by guilty looks.
“If it was not you, Pennie,” she said gently, “who was it?”
“I can’t tell that,” said Pennie, “only I didn’t.”