Girls of the Forest Part 38

"I wor 'termined--'termined to come," she repeated several times. At last her sobs ceased altogether, and she cuddled up against Nancy and went to sleep in her arms.

Nancy lifted her up and put her on the horse-hair sofa; she laid a rug over her, and then stooped and kissed her. Afterwards she went out and joined her father.

"Whatever brought little miss here?" asked the farmer.

"That's more than I can tell you, father."

"And why don't the others come sometimes?" snapped Farmer King. "They none of 'em come, not even that pretty girl we made so much fuss over, giving her a gold locket and chain. Now, I'd like to find out, Nancy, my girl, if she has ever shown that locket and chain to her haristocratic aunt. Do you suppose the haristocratic lady has set eyes on it?"

Nancy laughed.

"I guess not," she said. "Paulie's a bit of a coward. She wants to know us and yet she don't. She wants to know us behind the aunt's back."

"Left hand, not right hand," said the farmer. "I don't like that sort."

"At any rate she can't come to us at present, father, for Miss Tredgold has taken her to the seaside."

"That's it, is it?" said the farmer, his face clearing. "Then I suppose little miss has come with a message. What did missie say about your friend, Nancy?"

"Nothing. She's asleep at present. I mean to let her have her sleep out, then give her some dinner, and drive her home in the dogcart."

"Do as you like, Nance; only for mercy's sake don't make a fool of yourself over that family, for it strikes me forcibly they're becoming too grand for us."

Nancy said nothing further. She returned to the house and sat down in the room where Penelope slept. Her work-basket was open. She was making a pretty new necktie for herself. Nancy was a very clever workwoman, and the necktie grew under her nimble fingers. Presently she dived into the bottom of the basket and took out a gold thimble with a sapphire top and turquoises round the rim. She slipped it on to the tip of her slender first finger.

"I must send it back again," she said to herself. "I'd have done it before, but Pauline is away."

Just then she was attracted by a sound on the sofa. She turned. Pen's big black eyes were wide open; she was bending forward and gazing at the thimble.

"So you got it after all!" she said.

"Oh, child, how you startled me! What do you mean?"

"Why, that's Aunty Sophy's thimble. I was to get a penny if I found it."

Nancy was silent.

"How did it get into your work-basket?" asked Pen.

"I borrowed it from Paulie, and I'd have given it to her long ere this, but I heard she was away."

"Give it to me," cried Penelope. Her voice quite shook in her eagerness.

"Give it to me at once, and I will take it back to her."

"I wish you would, Pen, I am sure; but you must be very careful not to lose it, for it is a real beauty. See, I will put it into this little box, and cover the box up."

Penelope pressed close to Nancy. Nancy placed the thimble in the midst of some pink cotton-wool and looked at it affectionately; then she tied up the little box, put brown paper round it, tied string round that again, and then she held it out to Pen.

"You are quite positive you won't lose it?" she said.

"Positive. I has a big pocket, and no hole in it. See for yourself, there's no hole. Turn it out, will you?"

Penelope's pocket proved to be quite safe, and Nancy, with a qualm at her heart which she could not account for, allowed the little girl to put the thimble therein.

"Well, that is settled," she cried. "And now I want to know what you came for. You are going to have dinner with father and me after a bit."

"No, I'm not," answered Pen. "I'm going home at once."

"But why did you come? Did Pauline send me a message?"

"No, she wouldn't."

"Why not? I've done a great deal for her."

"She's ongrateful," said Pen. "She didn't send no message. I 'spect she'll have forgot you when she comes back."

Nancy's face flamed.

"I can make it a little too hot for her if she does."

"What's making a thing too hot?" asked Penelope.

"Oh, making it so that you squirm and tingle and your heart goes pit-a-pat," replied Nancy. "There! I'm not going to talk any more. If you won't tell me why you came, I suppose you will come into the other room and have some dinner?"

"I won't. I'm going home. As Paulie didn't send you a message, are you going to make it hot for her?"

"That I am. Somebody will come here--somebody I know--to see somebody she knows; and there will be a begging and imploring, and somebody she knows will do nothing for somebody I know. Now, can you take that in?"

"You are very funny," answered Penelope, "but I think I can. I'm glad, and I'm not glad, that I comed. I won't stay to dinner; I'm going straight away home this blessed minute."

CHAPTER XX.

PEN VICTORIOUS.

Penelope managed to reach home unattended. She was tired and draggled and dusty, and also very much scratched. Her sisters received her with whoops of astonishment and welcome. They had not missed her, it is true, but when they saw her coming sadly and sheepishly in at the wicket-gate they concluded that they had. Adelaide was the first to reach her.

"Don't ask me any questions and you'll hear no lies," was Pen's remark.

She waved her fat hand as she spoke. "I am going to nursey straight away.

I has something I wants to say to nursey. Has the post gone? I want to catch the post immediate."

"You are too queer for anything," said Adelaide; "but go your own way.

You'll catch it for being out all by yourself in the woods."

"I won't catch it, but there are others who will," replied Penelope. "And now keep out of my way. I want to find nursey."