“Why, Fred saw her yesterday at Marshlands-on-the-Sea,” continued Pauline. “She’s quite close to us—isn’t it fun? Fred came back quite interested in her—he thinks her so very pretty!”
“Whom do I think pretty, Miss?” called out Fred from a little way down the table. “No taking of my name in vain—if you please.”
“You know, Fred,” said Pauline, in her somewhat solemn little voice, “that you think dear Penelope’s sister sweetly pretty.”
“I should think so, indeed!” said Fred, “and, by the way, she is at Marshlands. She had three of the funniest little girls out walking with her yesterday that you ever saw in your life. Did you know she was going to be at Marshlands, Miss Carlton?”
“Yes,” said Penelope, feeling not quite so happy as she did a few minutes ago.
“We’ll ask her up here some day to have a good time with us, dear, if you like,” said Honora.
“Thank you,” replied Penelope, but without enthusiasm.
“I spoke to her yesterday,” said Fred. “She really did look awfully nice; only they were the rummest little coves you ever saw in all your life—the children who are there.”
“They are her pupils; they’re the daughters of a clergyman,” said Penelope.
“I don’t care whose daughters they are, but they go about with your sister, and they do look so funny. I told her you were coming and she gave me her address. Would you like to go in to see her this morning?” Penelope trembled.