“I don’t know how I am to bear it,” she said to herself. “Pen has made me so wretched. I was hoping that nothing would be known. I was trying to forget, and I was making a lot of good resolves, and I am loving Aunt Sophy more and more each day. Why have I got such a dreadful little sister as Pen? She is like none of the rest. It seems almost incredible that I should be in the power of such a small child. Nevertheless I am in her power. I had no right to let her go to the White Bay; still, I told her to go, for I couldn’t bear the agonies I should have to go through if I refused. Oh, I am wretched! Pen practically knows everything; so does Patty, and so does Briar. But they’re safe enough; they won’t betray me—they wouldn’t for all the world. As to Pen, I don’t know what she is made of. She will be a terrible woman by-and-by.”
Pauline walked on until she heard Verena’s voice. She then turned back.
“Aunt Sophy said we were to go up to the town to meet her,” said Verena. “She’s doing some shopping. She wants to get a new autumn hat for you, and another for me. Come along, Paulie. We are to be at Murray’s in the High Street at eleven o’clock.”
Pauline turned and walked soberly by her sister’s side.
“Are you as tired as ever this morning, Paulie?” asked Verena.
“I am not tired at all,” replied Pauline.
Verena considered for a minute.
“Aunt Sophy is often anxious about you,” she said. “I can’t imagine why, but she is. She says that she doesn’t think you are at all strong.”
“Oh, I am!” interrupted Pauline. “I wish she wouldn’t worry about me. I wish you’d tell her not to worry. I am really as strong as any girl could be. Do tell her not to fret about me any more.”
“Where is Pen?” said Verena suddenly.