Pen was quite agreeable. There was nothing to pay, for the Carters had accounts at the different shops where she was going. Just for the minute she looked wistfully into her sister's face. "If I could but tell her," she thought. "But I don't suppose she'd understand. Well, I suppose if Jim doesn't come back, and there's no hope of that, and if he quite forgets to write, I'll have to confide in Clay before Saturday, for I couldn't face father if he found out without my telling him." Penelope thought and thought during her drive. All of a sudden it flashed upon her that she might write a note to Jim. She could go to the post office--or still better she could stop at the Aldworths' on her way back, and ask for writing materials, and send a letter to him at the Holroyds'. The Holroyds did not live so very far away, only twenty miles at the furthest. Jim would probably get his letter that night; he would be certain to receive it the first thing in the morning. Pen felt quite happy when she remembered this very easy way of reminding Jim of his promise. She knew the Holroyds' address quite well, for Jim had often spoken of it. There was George, and there was Tom, and they lived at a place called The Chase. Yes, she could easily get a letter to reach Jim at that address. Accordingly she went through her commissions with ease and despatch, for she had, notwithstanding her youth, a wise little head on her shoulders. Then she desired the coachman to drive rapidly to the Aldworths' house. Just at that moment a voice sounded on her ears, and looking round she saw Flossie Griffiths. "Stop! stop! Pen! Do stop!" called out Flossie. Pen did not like being called by her Christian name by Flossie Griffiths; still less did she wish to have anything to do with that young lady, but she did not well know how to get rid of her. She accordingly desired the man to draw up the little carriage at the kerbstone, whereupon Flossie said eagerly: "Oh, you are the very person--you are driving past the Aldworths', aren't you?" "Yes; have you a message for them?" "I want to go with you. I want to see Nesta in a very great hurry. It is most important." "All right, if you must," said Pen not too cordially. Flossie's nature was far too blunt to be easily repressed. She jumped into the carriage and sat down, leaning back and feeling herself very important. "It must be nice to be rich," she said. "I do envy folks with lots of money. I wish my father had made his pile the same as yours has. Oh, isn't it good to lie back against these soft cushions, instead of tramping and tramping on the hard road? Well, I'm going to have a jolly time at Scarborough. Are you going to the seaside, too?" "Yes," said Pen, "we are going to Whitby." "I'd much rather go to Scarborough; I went to Whitby once; it isn't half as jolly." "Well, I like Whitby," said Pen, absolutely indifferent.