She ran up to Jim’s room; shut the door and fell on her knees by Jim’s bedside.
“Give me strength,” she murmured. “Give me strength. I am awfully frightened. Please, God, give me strength. I won’t let any one else be suspected.”
Just then Clara’s voice was heard calling her.
“Come along, Pen, what are you hiding for? And in Jim’s room of all places! We want every hand that we can get; we’ll never be in time for the train.”
“Where’s father?” said Pen wildly.
“How do I know where father is? Pen, you must be mad. What do you want with father of all people?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing?” said Pen. “Nothing at all.” She felt frightened at Clara’s manner.
“Now, do bustle up,” continued Clara. “Look here, we want a lot of peaches to eat by the way. There are some peaches in the hothouse at the end of the garden, you can pick some of those; never mind how cross old Archer is. Tell him that I want them. He won’t dare to keep anything back from me.”
Pen started on her errand. She was glad to be out, but when she reached the place where the peaches were, she stood for a long time in contemplation. Then she suddenly roused herself.
“I haven’t a bit of strength; I don’t know how I can do it,” she thought.