Penelope looked up with sudden interest, all her mortification and resentment forgotten. "Oh, was it you who was playing there on Tuesday?"
Miss Row nodded. "Probably, I don't know of any one else who plays that organ. Why? What do you know about it?"
"I walked up there the day after we came, and I heard the organ, and I went in and listened for ever so long. I hope you don't mind. The door was open, and I thought any one might go in."
"Mind? Oh dear no! I am only thankful some one besides myself takes any interest in it. Are you fond of music?"
"I love it! I love to hear it! I can't play yet, but I want to learn, and I think," gravely, "I'd rather play the organ than anything. I do want to learn to play so well that I can earn money by it."
"Oh, you mercenary little person," laughed Miss Row. "What can you want with money?"
Penelope did not know what 'mercenary' meant. She understood the second question, but she did not know whether she was at liberty to answer it or not. Miss Row seemed, though, to be waiting for a reply, so she felt obliged to.
"We all want to help Cousin Charlotte and father," she added, with great earnestness. "You see we are so many, and it costs such a lot to keep us all, so Esther says, and I don't know how to help, but I am trying to think of a way."
Miss Row looked at her little companion very thoughtfully, with a somewhat puzzled expression. She herself had never known what it was to want money. She was a wealthy woman, and she did a certain amount of good with her wealth, subscribing to many charities, but it never occurred to her that there might be anxiety and need amongst people of her own class, still less among those she knew. Penelope's words opened a new vista before her, and set her wondering if there were not many things she had missed for want of eyes and understanding.
"If you could play the organ," she said at last slowly, "it would be years before you could earn your living by it. You could not do much until you were seventeen or eighteen."