Penelope did not in the least care for Mademoiselle; she was not especially fond of her school life, but she detested those long and endless holidays which she spent invariably at Hazlitt Chase. To-day all was in disorder. The usual routine of school life was over. The children were some of them beside themselves with the thought of the railway journey and the home-coming in the evening. Somebody shouted to Penelope to hurry with her dressing, in order to help to get off the little ones. The smaller children, including the two little Hungerfords, were to go in a great omnibus to the station and be conducted by a governess to their different homes in various parts of England. Pauline Hungerford suddenly rushed into the room where Penelope was standing. "Helen of Troy," she said. "Oh, please don't!" said Penelope. "I am _not_ Helen of Troy--I don't wish to be called by that odious name." "But you _were_ so beautiful!" said little Pauline. "Do you know that while we were looking at you, even Nellie forgot about her bracelet; but she's crying like anything over the loss of it this morning. It is quite too bad." "Yes, indeed it is," said Penelope. "I do trust your mother will take steps to get it back. I hear that some of the railway officials were supposed to have stolen it." "Oh dear," said Pauline, "how wicked of them! What awful people they must be! Who told you that, Penelope?" "Well, it was mentioned to me by my sister, who came here yesterday. You saw her, of course?" "Yes--she was talking a lot to my brother. She is very pretty; of course--of course I saw her. And she says it was the railway people who stole it? I will tell mother that the very instant I get back. But oh, please, Penelope, Honora wants you; she said you promised to go to her room before ten, and she would be so glad if you would go at once--will you?" "Yes, I will go," said Penelope. She had forgotten Honora's words, being absorbed in her own melancholy thoughts. It now occurred to her, however, that she might as well keep her promise to the pretty girl who ought to have been Helen of Troy. She went slowly down the passage, tapped at Honora's door, and entered her bedroom. The young lady was just dressed for her journey. She wore dainty white pique and a pretty hat to match. She looked fair and fresh and charming. "I am just off--I have hardly a minute," she said. "I want to ask a great favour of you, Penelope." "What is that?" said Penelope. She spoke ill-naturedly. She felt the contrast between them. She almost disliked Honora for her beauty on this occasion. "It is this," said Honora. "I have been asking mamma--and she says I may do it. Will you come and stay with us for part of the holidays?" "I!" said Penelope--amazement in her face. "Yes. We live at Castle Beverley: it is not very far from Marshlands-on-the-Sea." "Oh dear!" exclaimed Penelope, clasping her hands. "Why, it is there my sister is going."