ntion was caught by a conversation going on between Nurse
and Mrs Hawthorn, who was sitting there with Cicely in her arms.

"I know no more than that baby, ma'am," said Nurse emphatically, as she
had said a hundred times before, "why or wherefore Master Ambrose should
take such a thing into his head. It's easy to frame that he should get
scared--when once he was up there in the dark, for he's a timid child
and always has been. But what _took_ him there all alone? That's what
_I_ want to know!"

"I cannot understand it," said Mrs Hawthorn; "but it makes him so much
worse to ask him questions that we must leave it alone until he is
stronger. We cannot be too thankful that he was not killed."

"Which I never doubted for one moment that he was, ma'am, when I found
him," continued Nurse; "he was lying all crumpled up and stone-cold, for
all the world like Miss Nancy's dormouse when she forgot to feed it for
a week."

On this theme Nurse was apt to become very voluble, and there were few
things she liked better than describing her own feelings on the
occasion. Mrs Hawthorn held up her hand entreatingly: "Do not talk of
it, Nurse," she said; "I cannot bear it." And then they went on to
discuss other matters.

Now all this while Pennie had been trying to make up her mind to speak.
There was a fly just in front of her on the window-pane, and as she
watched it crawling slowly along she said to herself:

"When it gets as far as the corner I will tell mother." But alas!
before the fly had nearly completed his journey Mrs Hawthorn rose to
leave the nursery. As she passed Pennie she stopped and said:

"Why, Pennie, my child, it is not like you to be idle. And you look
mournful; what's the matter?"

"I think Miss Pennie frets after her brother, ma'am," observed Nurse.

"Well, then," said Mrs Hawthorn, "I have something to tell you that I
am sure you will like. The doctor thinks Ambrose much better to-day,
and if you are very quiet and discreet I will let you go and have tea
with him this afternoon at five o'clock."

"Oh, mother, mother," cried Pennie, "how lovely! May I really?"

"Yes; but you must promise me one thing, and that is that you will not
speak of anything that has to do with the garret or his accident."

Pennie's face fell.

"Very well, mother," she said in a dejected tone.

"If you can't feel sure, Pennie," said her mother observing the
hesitation, "I can't let you go."

"I won't, really, moth