“They are very fair horses, but I don’t care to buy them. Judson knows just the sort I want. I am pleased with the ponies, however. They will give you all a great deal of amusement. To-morrow we must go to Southampton and order your habits.”
“I wonder I ever thought her cross and nasty and disagreeable,” thought Pauline. “I wonder I ever could hate her. I hope she’ll let me ride Peas-blossom. I liked his bright eyes so much. I never rode anything in my life, but I feel I could ride barebacked on Peas-blossom. I love him already. Oh, dear! I don’t hate Aunt Sophia now. On the contrary, I feel rather bad when I look at her. If she ever knows what I did yesterday, will she forgive me? I suppose I ought to tell her; but I can’t. It would get poor Nancy into trouble. Besides—I may as well be frank with myself—I should not have the courage.”
As soon as the girls got home Penelope ran up to Pauline.
“You stayed for a long time in the shrubbery yesterday, didn’t you, Pauline?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Pauline.
“You didn’t by any chance find Aunt Sophy’s thimble?”
“I! Why should I?”
Pauline felt herself turning red. Penelope fixed her exceedingly sharp eyes on her sister’s face.
“You did find it; you know you did. Where is it? Give it to me. I want my penny. Think of all the fun you are going to have. She doesn’t mean me to ride, ’cos I asked her. I must have my penny. Give me the thimble at once, Paulie.”
“I haven’t got it. Don’t talk nonsense, child. Let me go. Oh! you have hurt me.”