“Of course we care to have you, dear Aunt Sophy,” said Verena in her gentlest tone; and then the three started off. Penelope, in honor of her recent arrival, was promoted to the place in the middle. She laid a hand on each sister’s arm and swung herself along. People remarked the trio, and said to themselves what a remarkably fat, healthy-looking little girl the one in the middle was.
“Well, Pen,” said Pauline as they approached the house, having discussed all sorts of subjects, “I can’t see where the tum-ache and the sore throat and the pale cheeks come in.”
“They’re gone,” said Penelope. “I knew the sea would cure ’em. I am quite perfect well. I am going to be quite perfect well while I am here. I love the sea; don’t you?”
“Come, wash and be clean,” whispered the sea to Pauline.
She was silent. Verena said, however, that she greatly liked the sea. They went back to the house. Penelope was escorted upstairs. Pauline helped her to undress, and presently she was tucked into her little bed.
“It seems a’most as if I wor still a nursery child,” she said to her elder sister.
“Why so?” asked Pauline.
“Being sent to bed afore you and Renny. I am quite as old as you and Renny—in my mind, I mean.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Pauline almost crossly.
“Paulie,” said Penelope, taking hold of her hand and pulling her towards her, “I went to see Nancy King t’other day.”