“I should like your carriage at any time that suits yourself,” replied Brenda.
“Will eight o’clock do?” asked Honora.
Brenda made a careful calculation. Harry would probably be going on the Esplanade about eight or soon after. She was quite determined that the coachman should drive them round in that direction. She meant the coachman to draw up in order that she might speak to Harry. That, at least, she might achieve at the end of her long and unsatisfactory day.
So she said, in a meek voice, that she was very, very sorry to trouble the Beverleys, that it was very stupid of her to forget to order her own carriage to return, that her poor little head did often ache so badly with the care of her pupils—and so on, and so on, until Honora wondered when her regrets would end.
“It doesn’t matter at all,” she said, in her pleasant, well-bred voice; “we are delighted to send you back, of course, and I hope you have enjoyed your day.”
“Yes, thank you so much: your home is so delightful—so different from most places where I have the misfortune to live. And then to see my darling sister so perfectly happy—I am greatly obliged. I hope,” she added suddenly, “that you will permit Penelope to come to see us some day at Marshlands. We shan’t have much to offer her, but just a hearty welcome and the love of her sister.”
“You had best come out here again; it would be fifty times better,” said Honora. “However, you will let us know; and now I’ll just run and desire them to bring the wagonette round. Why, it’s five minutes to eight.”
Honora ran immediately out of the room and Penelope came in.
“Well, Pen—I’ve got my way. I managed the carriage, you see, although you, strange, callous little thing, would not ask for it for me. But I have a champion in that handsome Fred Hungerford, and I’ve been practically asked here again. But now, look here—you must help me whether you like it or not. Listen. I shall write to you in a day or two asking you to come to spend the day at Palliser Gardens, where we put up. You’ll just know what it is if you spend one day with us. You’ll know what it is to be stuffy and hot, and to have horrid food, and you’ll see our miserable attic bedroom where we sleep all four together. You dare not refuse: you wouldn’t be quite so mean as that; and after you’ve come to us, and have got back again, you’ve got to make the worst of it; and then I’ll ask you again, and when I ask you the second time, you’ve to see that we come here instead. Well, I think that is all. You know your duty. Whether you are ashamed of me or not, I am your only sister. Oh, here come my little charges: what frights, to be sure! Nina, do put your hat on straight and let me take that string from your hair—you utterly ridiculous child!”
Brenda pulled Nina with great firmness towards her, unplaited the shaggy mane, and let it fall once more over the child’s shoulders. Then the wagonette was heard approaching and Mrs Beverley said good-night to her visitors, and all the children of the Castle clustered around. Just at the last instant, Fanchon flew up to Pauline and whispered in her ear: