just stood
still, with her face as white as death."

"Wor I paled down?" said Pen. "Do tell me if I wor paled down a bit."

"You were as white as death, you poor little pretty," said the farmer;
and then he kissed the little girl on her broad forehead, and hurried off
to expostulate with regard to Lurcher.

Nancy took Pen into the house, and sat down in a cosy American
rocking-chair with the little girl in her lap. She proceeded to gorge her
with caramels and chocolates. Pen had never been so much fussed over
before; and, truth, to tell, she had seldom enjoyed herself better.

"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
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