"But, then, you see," continued Penelope, "it is by no means my wish to take any part in this tableau and, in short, I positively refuse to have anything whatever to do with your Helen of Troy, unless you make it worth my while to become one of the heroines in the tableaux." Penelope spoke very quietly now. Her whole soul was in her words. Was she not thinking of Brenda, and of what might happen to Brenda should she succeed, and of the golden life that might be Brenda's were she to be clever enough to get these four stupid rich girls to accede to her request? "I will tell you quite plainly,"--she said--"there is no use beating about the bush. I want twenty pounds." They all backed away from her in amazement. "I don't want it for myself, but for another. There are four of you here most anxious to take part in the tableaux. It would be perfectly easy for you four to get five pounds each from your respective parents, and to give me the money. On the day when I get the money, or when I receive your promise that you will pay it me, I will do whatever is necessary for the perfection of Helen's tableau, on the condition that you never breathe to a soul that I want that money, that on no future occasion do you bring it up to me, that you never blame me for having asked for it, nor enquire why I wanted it. For, girls, I, too, am ambitious, but not with your ambition; and I want just that sum of money, not to help myself, but another. For her sake, I will make a fool of myself on the day of the breaking-up, but I won't do it for any other reason. You can let me know whether you can manage this or not before the evening, for I understand that you are going to give Mrs Hazlitt your decision then. If you say no--there is an end of the matter, and we are no worse off than we were. If you say yes--why, I will do my very best for you--that is all. Good-bye, girls, for the present. I am going to walk in the wood with some of the children; Mary, your sister amongst them. Think of me what you like; I trust you not to tell on me. Good-bye, for the present." Penelope disappeared in her untidy linen dress with her old-fashioned blouse and, walking down the path, was soon lost to view. The girls she had left behind stared at each other without speaking. CHAPTER FOUR. AGREED. "If there ever was an extraordinary thing--" began Mary. "Preposterous!" echoed Cara. "Impossible!" said Annie. "Five pounds, indeed, from me because she gets the very best part in the tableaux!" exclaimed Susanna. "Well, girls: this ought to settle us. We had best give up `A Dream of Fair Women' on the spot." Each girl looked at the other. Then, arm in arm, they began slowly to pace the wood.