“How old are you, Pen?” she said when the loquacious child became silent.
Penelope tossed her head. “You knows of my age quite well.”
“Then I will just repeat the remark made by your excellent nurse—‘Little girls should be seen, and not heard.’ I will add to that remark by saying that little girls are sometimes impertinent. I shall not say anything more to-day; but another time, if you address me as you have just done, I shall be obliged to punish you.”
“And if I don’t dress you,” said Penelope—“if I’m awful good—will you give me sugar-plums?”
“That is a treat in the very far distance,” said Miss Tredgold.—“But now, girls, go out. The more you enjoy this lovely air the better.”
They did all enjoy it; after their hard work—for lessons were hard to them—freedom was sweet. With each moment of lesson-time fully occupied, leisure was delicious. They wandered under the trees; they opened the wicket-gate which led into the Forest, and went a short way into its deep and lovely shade. When lunch-bell sounded they returned with hungry appetites.
The rest of the day passed pleasantly. Even preparation hour was no longer regarded as a hardship. It brought renewed appetites to enjoy tea. And in the midst of tea a wild dissipation occurred, for a piano-van came slowly down the rutty lane which led to the front avenue. It stopped at the gates; the gates were opened, the piano-van came up the avenue, and John and two other men carried the beautiful Broadwood into the big drawing-room.
Miss Tredgold unlocked it and touched the ivory keys with loving fingers.
“I will play to you to-night when it is dusk,” she said to the girls.
After this they were so eager to hear the music that they could scarcely eat their dinner. Mr. Dale now always appeared for the evening meal. He took the foot of the table, and stared in an abstracted way at Aunt Sophia. So fond was he of doing this that he often quite forgot to carve the joint which was set before him.