if you want it," said Adelaide.

"But remember," continued Lucy, "we shall keep you to your part of the
bargain if you don't go."

"All right," cried Pen; and, having received the promise, she walked
sedately across the grass.

"Six pennies! I'll find them useful at the seaside," she thought.
"There's nothing like having a little money of your own. It buys
sweetmeats and cakes. I'll tell Aunt Sophy that my froat is so sore, and
that I must have constant sweetmeats. Six pennies will get a lot."

She walked more slowly. She was in reality in excellent health; even the
vinegar was not doing her much harm.

"How hungry I'll be when I get to the seaside!" she said to herself.
"I'll swell out and get very red and very fat. My body will be 'normous.
Oh, there's father!"

Mr. Dale was seated near his window. His head was bent as usual over his
work.

"Father could give me something," thought Pen. "He could and he ought.
I'll ask him. Dad!" she called.

Mr. Dale did not answer.

"Dad!" called Pen again.

He looked up with a fretful expression.

"Go away, my dear," he said. "I am particularly busy."

"I will if you'll give me sixpence."

"Go away."

Pen's father bent again over his book. He forgot Penelope.

"He's sure to give me sixpence if I worrit him long enough," thought the
naughty little girl.

She stood close to the window. Suddenly it occurred to her that if she
drew down the blind, which she could easily do by pushing her hand inside
the window and then planting her fat little person on the window-sill,
she would cause a shadow to come before the light on her father's page.

"That will make him look up," she thought. "When he does I'll ask him
again for sixpence. I'll tell him I won't go away till I get it."

She sat down on the window-sill, cleverly manipulating the blind, and Mr.
Dale found an unpleasant darkness steal over his page.

"Draw up that blind and go away, Penelope," he said. "Do you hear? Go
away."

"I will 'mediately you give me sixpence. I will draw up the blind and
I'll go away," said Pen.

"I will give you nothing. You are an extremely naughty little girl."

Penelope sat on. Mr. Dale tried to read in the darkening light. Presently
he heard a sniff. The sniff grew louder.

"My froat," said Penelope.

He glanced towards her. She was sitting huddled up; her back looked very
round.

"Do go away, child. What is wrong?"

"My froat. I want something to moisten it. It is so