ennie what was the matter, he confided to her
that he never could be happy again, because father had said he was not
fit to be trusted.

"It doesn't matter so much about David," he added mournfully; "but you
see I'm so much older. Do you think there's anything I could do?
anything very dangerous and difficult?"

"Like Casabianca," said Pennie, thinking of a poem she was fond of
reciting:

"The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but he had fled."

"Oh, don't go on," cried Nancy, "about that stupid boy. He couldn't
have supposed his father wanted him to stop there and be all burnt up.
I'm sure he wasn't fit to be trusted."

"We're not to have any pocket-money for a month," continued Ambrose,
taking no notice of Nancy; "but I don't mind that a bit. It's the other
I mind."

Pennie was sorry for her brother; but this last remark turned her
thoughts another way. No pocket-money! She glanced ruefully at her
china-house. Fate was certainly against Miss Unity's mandarin. Nancy
saw the glance and smiled triumphantly.

"There, you see!" she exclaimed. "There's nobody left to give anything
to it, so you'd much better give it up, and begin to collect for
Kettles."

In season and out of season she never ceased to impress this on Pennie,
and although they did not see Kettles again after meeting her at the
College, she soon became quite a familiar acquaintance. The little
girls carried on a sort of running chronicle, in which Kettles was the
chief character, and was made to do and say various surprising things.
Those were mostly suggested by Pennie, for Nancy, though equally
interested, would much have preferred a glimpse of the real Kettles
herself. She never could secure this, though, whenever she drove into
Nearminster, she hung over the waggonette to peer into Anchor and Hope
Alley with such earnestness that she nearly toppled over. Once she was
somewhat repaid by seeing a ragged man in a long coat and battered hat
turn into the alley.

"Pennie," she said, directly she got back, "I do believe I've seen
Kettles' father."

All these talks and fancies made Pennie feel weaker and weaker in
holding to her own plan.

She was tired of standing quite alone, and though her pride was still a
little hurt at her failure, she could not help seeing how much more
interesting it was to have Nancy's sympathy and help.

So, one day, she took her money out of the china-house, rubbed the label
off the door, and