“It’s my froat,” she said in a very sad tone, and she crept down the passage, nurse watching her from the open door of the nursery.
She did not guess that when Penelope turned the last corner she gave a sudden whoop, leapt nearly a foot into the air, and then darted out of the house as fast as she could.
“I ’spect I’s done it this time,” thought Pen.
Meanwhile in the nursery, after a moment’s reflection, nurse added a postscript of her own to Pen’s letter.
“Miss Penelope is very queer, and don’t look well at all.”
That letter was put in the post, and in due time received by Miss Tredgold.
Penelope began to count the hours. She knew that no answer could come for some time after the letter was written. During the next day she went at intervals to visit Betty, and begged her for drinks of vinegar; and as she paid Betty by more and more presents out of Pauline’s old bandbox, she found that individual quite amenable. After drinking the vinegar Penelope once again suffered from the “doubly-up pain in her tum-tum.” She spoke of her agonies to the others, who pitied her a good deal, and Josephine even presented her with some very precious peppermints for the purpose of removing it. Towards evening she seemed better, and talked continually of the seaside and how she intended to enjoy herself there. And then she suggested that her sisters should come and help her to pack her things. The girls naturally asked why they were to do it, and she replied:
“’Cos I’m going on a journey, and it’s most ’portant. None of you are going, but I am.”
“You’re not going on any journey,” said Lucy. “You do talk rubbish.”
“What you bet?” asked Penelope, who saw an instant opportunity of making a little money.