and shrugged up one shoulder. She had none of the easy grace which
adorned the Merridews. All her movements were abrupt. Worst of all, on
the middle finger of the hand she held out was a large black stain of
ink.

"My _dear_ Pennie," said her mother significantly as she noticed this.

"Yes, I know, mother," said Pennie immediately doubling down the
offending finger, "I can't get it off. I've tried everything. You see
I've been writing up the magazine, and there's such a lot of it, because
the others always forget."

"Then I think I should do without their contributions," said Mrs
Hawthorne.

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Pennie reproachfully, "there'd be hardly
anything in it. It's a very good one this month," she added, turning to
Miss Unity. "David's sent quite a long thing on `The Habits of the
Pig,' and Ambrose has written an `Ode to Spring.'"

"Then why," inquired Miss Unity, "have you so much writing to do?"

"Well, you see I'm the editor," explained Pennie, "and all the things
have to be copied into the magazine in printing hand by the first of the
month. So when the others forget, I do it all."

"How fast Pennie grows!" began Miss Unity hurriedly as the door closed
behind her god-daughter. "You don't think so much writing makes her
stoop too much?"

"Oh, no!" replied Mrs Hawthorne lightly; "it's a great amusement to
her, and she gets plenty of exercise."

"Because," continued Miss Unity, speaking so fast that she was almost
unintelligible, "if you thought so--I thought--that is, Mrs Merridew
thought--you might like her to join a dancing-class at the deanery."

She paused, frightened at her own boldness. She had meant to approach
the subject in the most delicate and gradual manner, and now she had
rushed into the very thick of it at once.

Mrs Hawthorne looked puzzled; she frowned a little.

"I do not understand," she said, "what Mrs Merridew can have to do with
Pennie's writing too much."

"Oh nothing, nothing in the world!" hastily replied Miss Unity; "of
course not. I have always said it's for you to judge--but I said I
would ask you to let the children join. Mr Deville's going to teach
them. The Merridews are nice girls, don't you think?" she added
wistfully, for she saw no answering approval on Mrs Hawthorne's face.
"I knew I should offend Mary," she said to herself.

Even when the arrangement with all its advantages was fully explained,
Mrs Hawthorne did not seem at all eager about i