"You might have helped me out of this awful mess; oh, you might, I wrote you such a distracted letter. Oh, I can't see Betty. I can't, I can't! Oh, what am I to do? Well, I won't go to Whitby, on that point I have quite made up my mind." Before her resolution could falter she ran downstairs again. "My dear Pen, not ready yet?" said Mabel, who was now in the hall. "No, I'm not, and what is more, I'm not going." "Not going, Penelope? Not going?" "No, I'm not well, and I'm not going." "You do look hot, we all noticed it this morning; but you are not so bad as all that." "Yes, I am, but you needn't stay, I can get nursey to look after me. I will go when I am better; anyhow, I am not going to-day, so there." Mabel rushed at her sister, and felt her brow, and took her hot hand. "I don't believe you are so bad you can't go. I wonder where father is? Oh, here you are, Clara. What do you think this tiresome Pen has gone and done?" "What now?" said Clara. "Does she want father? He is at Newcastle. He won't be back until late this evening. He bade us all good-bye. He asked for Pen, but as she was not about he sent his love to her." "I don't want to go," said Pen, "that's all. I'm going to stay behind. I'm--I'm not well." "But what ails you? A headache?" "Splitting," said Pen. "Pain in your back?" "A bit." "Sore throat?" "A bit." "Good gracious! What else have you got a bit of?" "I don't know--a bit of everything. Anyhow, I'm not going." "Hadn't we better take her temperature?" said Clay. "It seems frightfully wrong to leave her." "No, no, I won't put that horrid little thing into my mouth," said Pen. "I'll stay with nursey. Nursey shall look after me. You can all go, and if nursey wants to send for the doctor she can. But I'm not bad enough for that, only I can't stand the train. Do let me stay, please, please. If you don't, you'll have to take me by force, for I'll scream and shriek all the way." The waggonette appeared at the door. The coachman bent down. "Young ladies," he said, "it's about time to go." "Our luggage has gone," said Clara, "and yours too, Pen." "Perhaps I'll come to-morrow," said Pen. "I can't--I can't go now." "We'll have to leave her," said Clara. "I'll just run up and tell old Richardson to look after her." Clara rushed upstairs, and found Nurse Richardson, who told her there was not the slightest occasion for any of them to stay with Pen, for she could nurse her and fifty more like her, if it were necessary. Clara, therefore, returned to the hall. "Where is the child?" she asked. "I don't know," said Mabel. "Isn't the here!"