"If you come to church."
"Oh, do we come up here to this dear little church? I am so glad, I didn't know. I hope we shall all come. Good-bye, and thank you, and,"—hesitating a little and colouring warmly—"I am so sorry about the crumbs;" and waving her hand to her new friend as she disappeared within the church, she ran off in a state of high glee.
Mrs. Vercoe was standing at her door as Penelope passed. "Good-morning, missie," she said. "I reckon you'm fond of walking. I was the same when I was young. Oh my! what bootiful flowers!"
Penelope stayed to display her treasures. "You must have one of them, Mrs. Vercoe," she said, selecting one of the handsomest roses from her bouquet.
Mrs. Vercoe was vastly pleased. "'Tisn't often one has a flower like that now," she exclaimed delightedly. "It'll brighten up my bit of a place wonderful. Thank you kindly, missie "; and she disappeared into her house to place her treasure in water.
Penelope was hurrying on, when, glancing round to look for Guard, her eye fell on Mrs. Bennett standing at her shop door. Mrs. Bennett said "good-morning," and Penelope returned the greeting; but she had gone a step or two before it occurred to her that she had not been very gracious or kind to the post-mistress. Mrs. Bennett must have seen her stop and give a flower to Mrs. Vercoe. She paused, then slipped back to Mrs. Bennett's door. "Would you like one of my pretty flowers?" she asked.
"Oh no, thank you, miss. Don't you pull your bookay to pieces for me," she answered civilly, but with just the slightest toss of her head. She was really a little hurt and jealous, for she had seen that Penelope's offer to Mrs. Vercoe was quite spontaneous. Penelope, conscious of the feeling that had been in her own heart, was ashamed and sorry. "Do please let me give you one," she said earnestly. "I want to. I have such a lot it would be greedy to keep them all."
Mrs. Bennett backed into her shop. "Won't you come inside, missie?" she said, much more graciously. "Your little hands are almost too small; you'm in danger of dropping some of them."
Penelope followed her in gladly enough. She could not bear to think she had hurt any one's feelings, even any one she did not particularly like. Mrs. Bennett led the way into her parlour, where Penelope had never been before. It held all the treasures she was most proud of, and the window was full of geraniums, fuchsias, and hanging baskets of 'Mothers of Thousands,' blocking out most of the light. While Penelope was selecting a flower Mrs. Bennett stepped to the window.
"Are you fond of flowers, miss?"