"Oh, very," said Penelope, "I love them. I wish I could grow some. I think I shall ask Cousin Charlotte to let me have a little bit of garden of my own. Do you think I should ever get anything to grow?"
She talked on rapidly, partly because she was really interested and partly in the hope of ministering balm to Mrs. Bennett's wounded feelings.
"Oh yes, missie, of course you could, and if you'd like a split or two of geranium I'd be glad to give 'ee some off of any of mine, or you could have 'em in pots in your own windy. Have 'ee got a windy-ledge to your room?"
"Yes," said Penelope eagerly.
"Then you could grow mignonette and lots of things there. Look at mine. I've got flowers 'most all the year round."
Penelope stepped over to look closer at the beautiful pelargoniums, the great white geraniums, and graceful fuchsias, all blooming as happily in their narrow space as though it had been a handsome conservatory.
"Oh, and what is that?"
Two halves of a cocoanut shell hung from the top of the window with a curious little creeping plant growing in them, and sending long, hanging tendrils down over the sides.
"I was going to ask you if you would accept one of these, missie, by way of a beginning. We calls 'em 'Mothers of Thousands' here, and a very good name for 'em. I tilled both those last year from my old plant there, and look how they've growed a'ready."
Penelope was overjoyed. To have a plant of her very own, and growing in a cocoanut shell, too, gave her the greatest delight. She thanked Mrs. Bennett profusely, took her new present almost reverently, and hardly knew how she got home, her hands were so full of treasures and her mind of excitement.