"There, now, Pen, if you want to say anything to father, you can say it yourself; here he is. Father, Penelope wants to speak to you about something." "No, I don't--I don't," said Penelope, all her courage oozing out, as she expressed it, at her finger tips. "Then if Penelope has nothing to say, I have," said Clara, who being quite selfish and commonplace, forgot the wistfulness which had gathered for a moment round her little sister's face. Penelope stole away. "I'll tell Clay in the morning," she said. "Father won't miss the money before Saturday. I'll tell old Clay to-morrow." Meanwhile Clara poured the welcome news into her father's ears that the introduction to Miss St Just had been accomplished. He was quite elated. "That's capital," he said. "We must make much of that girl, the eldest Miss Aldworth. She is worth twenty of her sisters." "Of course she is, father; I have always said so." "Have you now, Clay? I shouldn't have guessed it. I thought you were entirely taken up with Miss Ethel and Miss Molly, and that little Nesta. Nesta seems to me to be the best of the bunch--a rollicking little thing, and full of daring. By the way, I saw her here to-day, and our Pen with her. What did she come about?" "Nesta here to-day? I didn't see her," said Clara. "Well, I did. She and Pen seemed to be having a sort of quarrel. You had best say nothing about it. Those sort of quarrels between girls soon melt into thin air when you take no notice of them. But I tell you what; this is good news. We'll have a big function after we have spent our month at the seaside. I know for a fact that the St Justs are going to be at Hurst Castle for the entire season, and when you return, Clay, we'll just do the thing in topping style. I'll induce Sir Edward and his daughter to come here and stay for the night I think I can manage the old gentleman." Here a peculiar knowing expression passed over Mr Carter's face. Clara watched him. "What a clever old dad it is," she said. "You'd like it, wouldn't you, Clay?" he said, putting his hand under her chin and turning her face round until he looked at her. "Upon my word you have a look of your mother, child. I was very fond of her," he continued, and then he stooped and printed an unlooked-for kiss on Clara's young cheek. She was unaccustomed to special attentions from her parent. "I'd be ever so glad if they came," she said. "And I'm sure if you wish it they will come." "Yes, it's all right now that you've been introduced to Miss Angela. Now, look here; couldn't we send them a present of fruit--fruit from the garden? They'd like some fruit from their own old garden, wouldn't they now?" Clara saw no impropriety in that.