THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL. 

A STORY FOR GIRLS. 

BY

L. T. MEADE, _Author of "A World of Girls, " "Scamp and I, " "Daddy's Boy, " &c. , &c. _

NEW YORK:WM. L. ALLISON CO. , PUBLISHERS. 

CONTENTS. 

 I. Early Days

 II. The First Month of their Trouble

 III. Miss Martineau

 IV. To the Rescue

 V. The Contents of the Cabinet

 VI. Many Visitors

 VII. Shortlands

 VIII. Thirty Pounds a Year

 IX. A Strange Letter and a Proposed Visit to London

 X. Ways and Means of Earning a Living

 XI. Bread and Butter

 XII. They Would Not be Parted

 XIII. Mrs. Ellsworthy's Letter

 XIV. Quite Contrary

 XV. In Spite of Opposition

 XVI. Penelope Mansion

 XVII. Escorted by Miss Slowcum

 XVIII. In St. Paul's Cathedral

 XIX. A Bright Day

 XX. Getting Lost

 XXI. How to Paint China and How to Form Style

 XXII. Cross Purposes

 XXIII. Dark Days

 XXIV. Dove's Joke

 XXV. Daisy's Promise

 XXVI. A Delightful Plan

 XXVII. The Poor Doves

 XXVIII. A Startling Discovery

 XXIX. A Blessing

 XXX. Voice of the Prince

 XXXI. A "Continual Reader"

 XXXII. Jasmine Begins to Soar

 XXXIII. Visiting the Publishers

 XXXIV. A Plan

 XXXV. Their Quarter's Allowance

 XXXVI. _The Joy-Bell_

 XXXVII. Endorsing a Cheque

 XXXVIII. Daisy's Request

 XXXIX. The Journey

 XL. A Bitter Disappointment

 XLI. Mrs. Dredge to the Rescue

 XLII. A New Employment

 XLIII. In the Field

 XLIV. Too Much for Dove

 XLV. The Prince to the Rescue

 XLVI. Delivered from the Ogre

 XLVII. Almost Defeated

 XLVIII. One Shoe Off and One Shoe On

 XLIX. Spanish Lace

 L. A Dazzling Day

 LI. A Letter

 LII. "I Love Mrs. Ellsworthy"

 LIII. Telegraph Wires

 LIV. A Discovery

 LV. An Invitation for the Ladies of Penelope Mansion

 LVI. A Palace Beautiful

THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL. 

_A STORY FOR GIRLS. _

CHAPTER I. 

EARLY DAYS. 

The three girls were called after flowers. This is how it came about:

When Primrose opened her eyes on the world she brought back a littlebit of spring to her mother's heart. 

Mrs. Mainwaring had gone through a terrible trouble--a trouble so darkand mysterious, so impossible to feel reconciled to, that her healthhad been almost shattered, and she had almost said good-bye to hope. 

The baby came in the spring-time, and the soft, velvety touch of thelittle face, and the sight of the round baby limbs, had made Mrs. Mainwaring smile: had caused her to pluck up heart, and to determineresolutely to take this new blessing, and to begin to live again. 

The baby came in the month of March, just when the primroses werebeginning to open their pale and yet bright blossoms. Mrs. Mainwaringsaid that the child was a symbol of spring to her, and she called herPrimrose. 

The next girl was born in Italy, in the middle of a rich and brilliantsummer. Flowers were everywhere, and the baby, a black-haired, dark-eyed little mite, had a starry look about her. She was calledJasmine, and the name from the very first suited her exactly. 

The third and youngest of the sisters also came in the summer, but shewas born in an English cottage. Her mother, who had been rich whenJasmine was born, was now poor; that is, she was poor as far as moneyis concerned, but the three little daughters made her feel rich. Shecalled the child from the first her little country wild flower, andallowed Primrose and Jasmine to select her name. They brought inhandfuls of field daisies, and begged to have the baby called afterthem. 

The three girls grew up in the little country cottage. Their fatherwas in India, in a very unhealthy part of the country. He wrote homeby every mail, and in each letter expressed a hope that the Governmentunder which he served would allow him to return to England and to hiswife and children. Death, however, came first to the gallant captain. When Primrose was ten years old, and Daisy was little more than ababy, Mrs. Mainwaring found herself in the humble position of anofficer's widow, with very little to live on besides her pension. 

In the Devonshire village, however, things were cheap, rents were low, and the manners of life deliciously fresh and primitive. 

Primrose, Jasmine, and Daisy grew up something like the flowers, taking no thought for the morrow, and happy in the grand facts thatthey were alive, that they were perfectly healthy, and that the sunshone and the sweet fresh breezes blew for them. They were asprimitive as the little place where they lived, and cared nothing atall for fashionably-cut dresses; or for what people who thinkthemselves wiser would have called the necessary enjoyments of life. Mrs. Mainwaring, who had gone through a terrible trouble before thebirth of her eldest girl, had her nerves shattered a second time byher husband's death; from that moment she was more ruled by her girlsthan a ruler to them. They did pretty much what they pleased, and shewas content that they should make themselves happy in their own way. 

It was lucky for the girls that they were amiable, and had strength ofcharacter. 

Primrose was delightfully matter-of-fact. When she saw that her motherallowed them to learn their lessons anyhow she made little rules forherself and her sisters--the rules were so playful and so light thatthe others, for mere fun, followed them--thus they insisted on theirmother hearing them their daily tasks; they insisted on goingregularly twice a week to a certain old Miss Martineau, who gave themlessons on an antiquated piano, and taught them obsolete French. Primrose was considered by her sisters very wise indeed but Primrosealso thought Jasmine wise, and wise with a wisdom which she couldappreciate without touching; for Jasmine had got some gifts from afairy wand, she was touched with the spirit of Romance, and had abeautiful way of looking at life which her sisters loved to encourage. Daisy was the acknowledged baby of the family--she was very pretty, and not very strong, was everybody's darling, and was, of course, something of a spoilt child. 

Primrose had a face which harmonized very well with her quaint, sweetname; her hair was soft, straight, and yellow, her eyes were lightbrown, her skin was fair, and her expression extremely calm, gentle, and placid. To look at Primrose was to feel soothed--she had asomewhat slow way of speaking, and she never wasted her words. Jasminewas in all particulars her opposite. She was dark, with very brightand lovely eyes; her movements were quick, her expression full ofanimation, and when excited--and she was generally in a state ofexcitement--her words tumbled out almost too quickly for coherence. Her cheeks would burn, and her eyes sparkle, over such trivialcircumstances as a walk down a country lane, as blackberry-hunting, asstrawberry-picking--a new story-book kept her awake half thenight--she was, in short, a constant little volcano in this quiethome, and would have been an intolerable child but for the greatsweetness of her temper, and also for the fact that every one more orless yielded to her. 

Daisy was very pretty and fair--her hair was as yellow as Primrose's, but it curled, and was more or less always in a state of friz; hereyes were wide open and blue, and she was just a charming littlechild, partaking slightly of the qualities of both her elder sisters. 

These girls had never had a care or an anxiety--when they were hungrythey could eat, when they were tired sleep could lull them intodreamless rest--they had never seen any world but the narrow world ofRosebury, the name of the village where they lived. Even romanticJasmine thought that life at Rosebury, with perhaps a few more booksand a few more adventures must form the sum and substance of herexistence. Of course there was a large world outside, but even Jasminehad not begun to long for it. 

Primrose was sixteen, Jasmine between thirteen and fourteen, and Daisyten, when a sudden break came to all this quiet and happy routine. Mrs. Mainwaring without any warning or any leave-taking, suddenlydied. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE FIRST MONTH OF THEIR TROUBLE. 

There are mothers and mothers. Mrs. Mainwaring was the kind of motherwho could not possibly say a harsh word to her children--she could notbe severe to them, she could never do anything but consider them thesweetest and best of human beings. The girls ruled her, and she likedto be ruled by them. After her husband's death, and after the firstagony of his loss had passed away, she sank into a sort of subduedstate--she began to live in the present, to be content with the littleblessings of each day, to look upon the sunshine as an unmitigatedboon, and on the girls' laughter as the sweetest music. She had beenrich in her early married life, but Captain Mainwaring had lost hismoney, had lost all his large private means, through a bank failure, and before Daisy came into the world Mrs. Mainwaring knew that she wasa very poor woman indeed. Before the captain went to India he insuredhis life for £1000, and after his death Mrs. Mainwaring lived veryplacidly on her small pension, and for any wants which she requiredover and above what the pension could supply she drew upon the £1000. She did not care, as a more sensible woman would have done, to investthis little sum as so much capital; no, she preferred to let it lie inthe bank, and to draw upon it from time to time, as necessity arose. She had no business friends to advise her, for the few acquaintancesshe made at Rosebury knew nothing whatever of the value of money. Likemany another woman who has been brought up in affluence, neither hadMrs. Mainwaring the faintest idea of how fast a small sum like £1, 000can dwindle. She felt comfortable during the latter years of her lifeat the knowledge that she had a good balance in the bank. It neveroccurred to her as a possibility that she who was still fairly youngcould die suddenly and without warning. This event, however, tookplace, and the girls were practically unprovided for. 

Mrs. Mainwaring had never really worked for her children, but a motherwho had worked hard for them, and toiled, and exerted all her strengthto provide adequately for their future, might not perhaps have beenloved so well. She died and her children were broken-hearted. Theymourned for her each after her own fashion, and each according to herindividual character. Primrose retained her calmness and her commonsense in the midst of all her grief; Jasmine was tempestuous andhysterical, bursting into laughter one minute and sobbing wildly thenext. Little Daisy felt frightened in Jasmine's presence--she did notquite believe that mother would never come back, and she clung toPrimrose, who protected and soothed her; in short, took a mother'splace to her, and felt herself several years older on the spot. 

For a month the girls grieved and shut themselves away from theirneighbors, and refused to go out, or to be in any measure comforted. Amonth in the ordinary reckoning is really a very short period of time, but to these girls, in their grief and misery, it seemed almostendless. One night Jasmine lay awake from the time she laid her headon the pillow till the first sun had dawned; then Primrose tookfright, and began to resume her old gentle, but still firm authority. 

"Jasmine, " she said, "we have got our black dresses--they are madevery neatly, and we have done them all ourselves. Staying in the housethis lovely weather won't bring dear mamma back again; we will havetea a little earlier than usual, and go for a walk this evening. "

Jasmine, whenever she could stop crying, had been longing for a walk, but had crushed down the desire as something unnatural, anddisrespectful to dear mamma, but of course if Primrose suggested it itwas all right. Her face brightened visibly, and as to Daisy, she satdown and began to play with the kitten on the spot. 

That evening the three desolate young creatures put on their new blackdresses, and went down a long, rambling, charming country lane. Theair was delicious--Jasmine refused to cover her hot little face with acrape veil--they came back after their ramble soothed and refreshed. As they were walking up the village street a girl of the name ofPoppy, their laundress's child, stepped out of a little cottage, dropped a courtesy, and said, in a tone of delight--

"Oh, Miss Mainwaring, I'm glad to see you out; and Miss Jasmine, darling, the little canary is all reared and ready for you. I took asight of pains with him, and he'll sing beautiful before long. Shall Ibring him round in the morning, Miss Jasmine?"

"Yes, of course, Poppy; and I'm greatly obliged to you, " answeredJasmine, in her old bright tones. Then she colored high, felt a gooddeal ashamed of herself, and hurried after Primrose, who had pulleddown her crape veil, and was holding Daisy's hand tightly. 

That night the sisters all slept well; they were the better for thefresh air, and also for the thought of seeing Poppy and the canarywhich she had reared for Jasmine in the morning. 

Sharp to the hour Poppy arrived with her gift; she was a pretty littlevillage girl, who adored the Misses Mainwaring. 

"The bird will want a heap of sunshine, " she said; "he's young, and mymother says that all young things want lots and lots of sun. May Ipull up the blind in the bay window, Miss Primrose; and may I hangJimmy's cage just here?"

Primrose nodded. She forgot, in her interest over Jimmy, to rememberthat the bay window looked directly on to the village street. 

"And please, miss, " said Poppy, as she was preparing to return home, "Miss Martineau says she'll look in this evening, and that she wasglad when she saw you out last night, young ladies, and actingsensible again. "

Primrose had always a very faint color; at Poppy's words it deepenedslightly. 

"We've tried to act in a sensible way all through, " she said, withgentle dignity. "Perhaps Miss Martineau does not quite understand. Welove one another very much; we are not going to be foolish, but wecannot help grieving for our mother. "

At these words Jasmine rushed out of the room and Poppy's round eyesfilled with tears. 

"Oh, Miss Primrose--, " she began. 

"Never mind, Poppy, " said Primrose; "we'll see Miss Martineauto-night. I am glad you told us she was coming. "

The neighbors at Rosebury were all of the most sociable type; theMainwaring girls knew every soul in the place, and when their motherdied there was quite a rush of sympathy for them, and the littlecottage might have been full from morning till night. Primrose, however, would not have it; even Miss Martineau, who was theirteacher, and perhaps their warmest friend, was refused admittance. Theneighbors wondered, and thought the girls very extraordinary and alittle stuck-up, and their sympathy, thrown back on themselves, beganto cool. 

The real facts of the case, however, were these: Primrose, Jasmine andDaisy would have been very pleased to see Poppy Jenkins, or old Mrs. Jones, who sometimes came in to do choring, or even the nice littleMisses Price, who kept a grocery shop at the other end of the villagestreet; they would also have not objected to a visit from good, heartyMrs. Fry, the doctor's wife, but had they admitted any of theseneighbors they must have seen Miss Martineau, and Miss Martineau, onceshe got a footing in the house, would have been there morning, noonand night. 

Poor Jasmine would not have at all objected to crying away some of hersorrow on kind Mrs. Fry's motherly breast; Primrose could have hadsome really interesting talk which would have done her good with theMisses Price; they were very religious people, and their brother was aclergyman, and they might have said some things which would comfortthe sore hearts of the young girls. Little Daisy could have asked someof her unceasing questions of Poppy Jenkins, and the three wouldreally have been the better for the visits and the sympathy of theneighbors did not these visits and sympathy also mean Miss Martineau. But Miss Martineau at breakfast, dinner, and tea--Miss Martineau, withher never-ending advice, her good-natured but still unceasinglycorrecting tone, was felt just at first to be unendurable. She wassincerely fond of the girls, whom she had taught to play incorrectly, and to read French with an accent unrecognized in Paris, but MissMartineau was a worry, was a great deal too officious, and so thegirls shut themselves away from her and from all other neighbors forthe first month after their mother's death. 

CHAPTER III. 

MISS MARTINEAU. 

Primrose was the soul of hospitality; having decided that MissMartineau was to be admitted that evening, it occurred to her that shemight as well make things pleasant for this angular, good-humored, andsomewhat hungry personage. Primrose could cook charmingly, and whendinner was over she turned to her sisters, and said in her usualrather slow way--

"I am going to make some cream-cakes for tea; and Jasmine, dear, youmight put some fresh flowers in the vases; and Daisy--"; she paused asshe looked at her sister--the child's blue eyes were fixed on her, shenoticed with a pang that the little face was pale, and the dimpledmouth looked sad. 

"Daisy, " she said, suddenly, "you can go into the garden, and have aromp with the Pink. "

"The Pink" was Daisy's favorite kitten. 

Daisy laughed aloud, Jasmine started up briskly from the dinner-table, and Primrose, feeling that she had done well, went into the kitchen toconsult with Hannah, the old cook, over the making of thecream-cakes. 

The result of all this was that when Miss Martineau, sharp at fouro'clock (the hours were very primitive at Rosebury), arrived at theMainwarings' door, the outward aspect of the house bore no tokens ofviolent grief on the part of its inmates--the blinds were drawn up, not quite to the top, for that would have been ugly, and Jasmine wasfull of artistic instincts, but they were drawn up to let in plenty ofsunlight, the white muslin curtains were draped gracefully, some potsof fresh flowers could be seen on the window-ledge, and a canary in arather battered cage hung from a hook above, and disported himselfcheerfully in the sunlight. 

Miss Martineau was very old-fashioned in her ideas, and she did notmuch like the look of the bay window. 

She comforted herself, however, with the reflection that even underthe direst afflictions blinds must be drawn up some time, and that shewould doubtless find the poor dear girls in a state of tempestuousgrief within. She imagined herself soothing Jasmine, holdingPrimrose's hand, and allowing Daisy to sit on her knee. Miss Martineauwas most kind-hearted, and would have done anything for the threegirls, whom she dearly loved, only, like many another good-heartedperson, she would wish to do that anything or something in her ownway. 

"Good evening, Hannah, " she said, as the old cook opened the door;"you have had a sad affliction--a terrible affliction. I hope the dearyoung ladies are--" Miss Martineau paused for a word, then shesaid--"tranquil. "

"Oh yes, miss, " answered Hannah. "Walk in, please, MissMartineau--this way--the young ladies is hoping you'll take a cup oftea with them, miss. " Miss Martineau found herself the next instant inone of the most cheerful sitting-rooms to be found at Rosebury--it hadalways been a pretty room--furnished daintily with the odds and endsof rich and choice furniture which had belonged to Mrs. Mainwaring inher wealthy days. Now it was bright with flowers, and the western sunpoured in at one angle of the wide bay window. The three girls, intheir very simple black dresses, with no crape, came forward in alittle group to meet her. In their hearts they were slightly excitedand upset, but rather than give way they put on an air of extracheerfulness. Miss Martineau, fond as she was of them, felt absolutelyscandalized--to keep her out of the house for a whole month, and thento admit her in this fashion--such a lot of sunlight--such a heap offlowers, no crape on the black dresses, and Jasmine's face quitebright and her hair as curly as usual. Miss Martineau began a littleset speech, but Jasmine interrupted her. 

"Do come, and have some tea, " she said. "Primrose has made somedelicious cream-cakes, and we are all so hungry, aren't we, Eyebright?" turning to her little sister as she spoke. 

"Yes, " replied Daisy; "Pink is hungry, too--I chased Pink about fiftytimes round the garden, and she's quite starving. May Pink have somecream in a saucer for her tea, Primrose?"

Primrose nodded, took Miss Martineau's hand, and led her to the placeof honor at the table, and sitting down herself, began to pour out thefragrant tea. 

If Miss Martineau had a weakness, it was for really good tea and forcream-cakes. She took off her gloves now, arranged her bonnet-strings, put back her veil, and prepared to enjoy herself. Instead of talkingcommon-place condolences, she chatted on little matters of localinterest with the sisters. Jasmine took care to supply Miss Martineauwith plenty of cream-cakes--Primrose saw that her cup was wellreplenished. Miss Martineau was poor and very saving, and it occurredto her, as she partook of the Mainwaring's nice tea, that she might dowithout much supper by-and-by. This reflection put her into anexcellent humor. 

When the tea was over Primrose led her to a comfortable seat by thewindow. 

"My dear, " she said, "it is well that I should sit just here, withinfull view of the street?--your window is, well, a little too likeseeing company, my loves, and if my bonnet is seen by passers-byyou'll have everybody calling directly. "

"Oh, we mean to see everybody now, " said Jasmine "we--we--we think itbest, don't we, Primrose?"

"Yes, " said Primrose, in her gentle tones. "It does not make us thinkless of dear mamma to see people--and--and--we have decided to go onmuch as usual now. "

"You might have admitted me before, dears, " replied Miss Martineau--"Ifelt so intensely for you--I could never get you out of my head. I wasa good deal hurt by your refusing to admit me, my dear girls, for inall respects I would have wished to be a mother to you. "

"Please, don't, " said Jasmine. 

"We _couldn't_ have another mother, " said little Daisy, clinging closeto Primrose, and looking up into her sister's sweet face. 

Primrose stooped and kissed her. 

"You may run into the garden, darling, and take the Pink, " she said. 

Miss Martineau had no intention of leaving the Mainwarings withoutspeaking out her mind. It was one of this good lady's essentialprivileges to speak out her mind to the younger generation of theRosebury world. Who had a better right to do this than she? for hadshe not educated most of them? had she not given them of the best ofher French and her music? and was she not even at this present momentJasmine's and Daisy's instructress? Primrose she considered herfinished and accomplished pupil. Surely the girls, even though theyhad refused to admit her for a month, would turn to her now with fullconfidence. She settled herself comfortably in the arm-chair in whichPrimrose had placed her, and saying, in her high-pitched and thinvoice--

"Now, my dears, you will take seats close to me--not too close, loves, for I dislike being crushed, and I have on my Sunday silk. My deargirls, I want us now to have a really comfortable talk. There is agreat deal that needs discussion, and I think there is nothing likefacing a difficult subject resolutely, and going through it withsystem. I approve of your sending Daisy into the garden, Primrose. Sheis too young to listen to all that we must go into. I purpose dears, after the manner of our school-hours, to divide our discourse intoheads--two heads will probably be sufficient for this evening. First, the severe loss you have just sustained--that we will talk over, andno doubt mingle our tears together over; take courage, my dearchildren, such an unburdening will relieve your young hearts. Second--Jasmine, you need not get so very red, my dear--second, wewill discuss something also of importance; how are you three deargirls going to live?"

Here Miss Martineau paused, took off her spectacles, wiped them, andput them on again. She felt really very kindly, and would have workedherself to a skeleton, if need be, for the sake of the Mainwarings, whom she sincerely loved. Jasmine's red face, however, grew stillredder. 

"Please, Miss Martineau--yes, Primrose, I will speak--please, MissMartineau, we cannot discuss dear mamma with you. There is nothing todiscuss, and nothing to tell--I won't--I can't--Primrose, I won'tlisten, and I won't talk. "

Miss Martineau shook her head, and looked really angrily at Jasmine. 

"Nothing to tell, " she said, sorrowfully. "Is your poor dear motherthen so soon forgotten? I could not have believed it. Alas! alas! howlittle children appreciate their parents. "

"You are not a parent yourself, and you know nothing about it, " saidJasmine, now feeling very angry, and speaking in her rudest tone. 

Primrose's quiet voice interposed. 

"I think, Miss Martineau, " she began, "that the first subject will bemore than Jasmine and I can quite bear--you must forgive us, even ifyou fail quite to understand us. It is no question of forgetting--ourmother will never be forgotten--it is just that we would rather not. You must allow us to judge for ourselves on this point, " concludedPrimrose, with that dignity that suited her so well. Primrose, for allher extreme quietness and simplicity of manner and bearing, could looklike a young princess when she chose, and Miss Martineau, who wouldhave quarrelled fiercely with Jasmine, submitted. 

"Very well, " she said, in a tone of some slight offence; "I came herewith a heart brimful of sympathy; it is repulsed; it goes back as itcame, but I bear no offence. "

"Shall we discuss your second subject, dear Miss Martineau?" continuedPrimrose. "I know that you have a great deal of sense and experience, and I know that you have a knack of making money go very far indeed. You ask us what our plans are--well, I really don't think we have gotany, have we, Jasmine?"

"No, " said Jasmine, in her shortest tones. "We mean to live as wealways did. Why can't people leave us in peace?"

Miss Martineau cleared her throat, looked with some compassion atJasmine, whom she thought it best to treat as a spoilt child, and thenturned her attention to Primrose. 

"My dear, " she said, "I am willing to waive my first head, to cast itaside, to pass it over, and consider my second. My dear Primrose, thefirst thing to consider in making your plans--I take no notice ofJasmine's somewhat childish remarks--is _on_ what you have to live. "

Primrose knit her brows. 

"I suppose, " she said slowly, "we shall have what we always had--wespent very little money in the past, and, of course, we shall requirestill less now. We are fond of Rosebury; I think we shall do for thepresent at least just what Jasmine says, and stay on quietly here. "

Miss Martineau cleared her throat again. 

"My dear girl, " she said, "even to live here you must have somethingto live on. Now, are you aware that your mother's annuity as acaptain's widow ceases with her death? I believe something verytrifling will still be allowed to you, as his orphans, but on thatpoint I'm rather in the dark. "

"Mother always did get ten pounds a year apiece for us, " saidPrimrose. 

"Well, yes, my dear, we will suppose, and trust, and hope that thatsmall sum will still be continued; but even at Rosebury you threegirls cannot live on thirty pounds a year. "

"But there is the money in the bank, " said Jasmine speaking in a moreinterested tone. "You remember Primrose dear, how whenever motherwanted some money she just wrote a cheque, and we took it down to Mr. Danesfield, and he gave us nice shining gold for it. Sometimes it wasten pounds, sometimes it was five pounds, and sometimes it was onlytwo pounds; but whenever we went to Mr. Danesfield's bank withmother's cheque he gave us the money. I suppose, Primrose, you canhave a cheque-book now, and Mr. Danesfield can give you the money. "

"Yes, " said Primrose, in a cheerful tone, "I forgot about the money inthe bank; mother often told me there was plenty. Even if we can'tquite live on our thirty pounds a year, we can manage with what moneydear mamma had in the bank. "

Miss Martineau's face had become extremely lined and anxious. 

"My dears, " she said, "I fear I've done a rude thing; I fear I'vetaken a liberty; but the fact is, you are so alone, poor darlings, andMr. Danesfield is an old friend of mine--and--and--I took the libertyof asking him what your mother's balance was. He said, my dears--mypoor dears--that it was not quite two hundred pounds. "

CHAPTER IV. 

TO THE RESCUE. 

Miss Martineau told her news with considerable agitation. Sheconsidered it a terrible revelation. It seemed to her a very fearfuland disastrous thing that three girls brought up like the Mainwarings, three girls still almost children, should be thrown on the worldwithout any means for their support. 

Simple and primitive as their lives had been at Rosebury, they stillhad been tenderly nurtured and warmly sheltered--no cold blast ofunkindness or neglect had visited them--they had been surrounded everby both love and respect. The love came principally from their motherand from one another, but the respect came from all who knew them. TheMainwaring girls, in their plain dresses and with theirunsophisticated manners, looked like ladies, and invariably acted assuch. 

Soon after making her communication Miss Martineau took her leave; shehurried home, and sitting down in her dingy little parlor, began tothink. 

"No, thank you, Susan, " she said to her little maid-of-all-work, "Ishan't want any supper to-night. I have been at tea with my dearpupils, the Misses Mainwaring. You may bring the lamp presently, Susan, but not quite yet; it is a pity to waste the daylight, andthere is quite another quarter of an hour in which I can see to knit. Yes, give me my knitting-basket; I can get on with Widow Joseph'smittens. "

"And, if you please, ma'am, " asked Susan, lingering for a moment atthe door, "may I ask how, all things considering, the dear youngladies is?"

"On the whole, tranquil, Susan--yes, I may say it with confidence; mydear pupils may be considered in a resigned state of mind. "

Susan closed the door after her, and Miss Martineau took up herknitting. Knitting woollen mittens is an occupation which harmonizesvery well with reflection and while the old lady's active fingersmoved her thoughts were busy. 

"Thirty pounds a year, " she said softly to herself, "thirty poundscertain, and a lump sum of two hundred in the bank. Doubtless they owesome of that for their mother's funeral and their own mourning. Theyprobably owe quite thirty pounds of that, and to make it safe, I hadbetter say forty. That leaves a balance of one hundred and sixty;just enough to put away for emergencies, illness, and so forth. Mydear girls, my dear Primrose, and Jasmine, and my pretty little petDaisy, you cannot touch your little capital; you may get a few poundsa year for it, or you may not--Mr. Danesfield must decide that--butall the money you can certainly reckon on for your expenses is thirtypounds per annum, and on that you cannot live. "

Here Miss Martineau threw down her knitting, and began with someagitation to pace up and down her tiny room. 

"What was to be done with these lonely and defenceless girls? how werethey to meet the world? how were they to earn their living?"

Miss Martineau had never before found herself propounding so painfuland interesting a problem; her mind worked round it, and tried tograpple with it, but though she stayed up far into the night, and evenhad recourse to figures, and marked down on paper the very lowest suma girl could possibly exist on, she went to bed, having found nosolution to this vexed question. 

Even Miss Martineau, ignorant and narrow-minded as she was, couldscarcely pronounce Primrose fit to do much in the educational world;Jasmine's, of course, was only a little giddy pate, and she required avast amount of teaching herself; and pretty Daisy was still but ayoung child. 

Miss Martineau went to bed and to sleep; she dreamed troubled dreams, but in the morning she awoke strengthened and restored, even by suchrestless slumbers, and quite resolved to do something. 

"Sophia Martineau, " she said--for living quite alone she was fond ofholding conversations with herself--"Sophia Martineau, those girls areplaced, to put it figuratively, at your door, and take them up youmust. Gold you have none to bestow, but you can give interest; youcan, in short, rouse others to help the helpless. This is your boundenduty, and you had better see to it at once. "

Miss Martineau went briskly downstairs, ate her frugal breakfast, andthen made her plans. These plans were decisive enough. At Rosebury noone thought of being so silly as to be over-educated. None of theyoung brains of the rising generation were over-forced orover-stimulated, and Miss Martineau felt no compunction whatever inwriting a short note to each of six little pupils, and telling themthat they need not come to her that morning, for she meant to givethem a holiday. 

Having done this, and sent Susan out with the notes, she wentupstairs, and once more put on her black silk dress, her old-fashionedmantle, and her high poke bonnet. Thus attired, she started on anexpedition which she trusted would lead to many happy results for theMainwarings. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE CONTENTS OF THE CABINET. 

The uneasiness Miss Martineau felt was by no means shared by thegirls. Primrose had in reality a very practical nature; she couldhousekeep well, and no baker or butcher who ventured to show his facein Rosebury would dream of cheating this bright young lady. No onecould make half-a-crown, or even a shilling, go farther than Primrosecould. No one could more cleverly convert an old dress into a new, buther little experiences ended here. She had kept the house for hermother, and been both thrifty and saving, but real responsibility hadnever been hers. The overpowering sensation of knowing that she mustmake so much money meet so many absolute necessities had never touchedher young life. Miss Martineau's words had made her a littlethoughtful, but by no means anxious. If she and her sisters could notlive on thirty pounds a year there was still the money in the bank. 

Primrose thought two hundred pounds, if not a large, at least a verycomfortable sum. The only real effect that her old governess's wordshad on her was to make her a little extra saving. 

Jasmine never liked Primrose when she was in a saving mood, and shegrumbled audibly when, the morning after Miss Martineau's visit, herelder sister suggested that they should do without some black cottondresses which the day before they had decided to buy and to make forthemselves. 

"Such nonsense!" said Jasmine, stamping her little foot impatiently;"you know we want the dresses, Primrose. You know poor Daisy can't runand play in the garden in her black cashmere frock, and I can't dig orweed. You know, when we decided to go on just as usual, just as ifmamma--was--was--"

Here Jasmine paused, gulped down a sob, and said, hastily, "We wantour print dresses, and we can't do without them. You are justfrightened, Primrose, by what Miss Martineau said. "

"I am not at all frightened, " answered Primrose, calmly; "only I thinkwe ought to be careful. "

"And we are so rich, too, " said Jasmine. "I never thought we had twohundred pounds in the bank. Why it's heaps and lots of money. Primrose, what are you so grave about?"

"Only, " said Primrose, in her slow voice, "only Miss Martineau thoughtit very, very little money. She looked so grave when she spoke aboutit--indeed, she seemed almost sad. Jasmine, I really think MissMartineau quite loves us. "

"Perhaps, " said Jasmine, in an indifferent tone. "Well, Rose, if youare quite determined to be shabby and saving, I may as well join Daisyin the garden. "

Jasmine stooped down, kissed her sister lightly on the forehead, andthen ran out of the room. A moment or two later Primrose heardlaughing voices floating in through the open window. She was glad inher heart that Jasmine and Daisy were beginning to do things just asusual, and yet somehow their laughter gave her a pang. 

The little cottage was a tiny place; it consisted downstairs of onelong low room, with a bay window at the extreme end. This room theMainwarings called the drawing-room, and it was really furnished withgreat daintiness and care. At one end was the bay window, at the otherwere glass doors which opened directly into the garden. The kitchenwas at the other end of the narrow hall, and this also looked on thegarden. Hannah, the one servant, was often heard to object to thisarrangement. She gave solid reasons for her objections, declaringroundly that human nature was far more agreeable to her than any partof the vegetable kingdom; but though Hannah found her small kitchenrather dull, and never during the years she stayed with them developedthe slightest taste for the beauties of Nature, she was sincerelyattached to the Mainwaring girls, and took care to serve them well. 

Upstairs were two bedrooms--one looking to the street, in which thegirls slept, the prettiest room with the garden view being reservedfor Mrs. Mainwaring. Hannah occupied a small and attic-like apartmentover the kitchen. 

When Jasmine ran into the garden Primrose slowly rose from her seatand went upstairs. It occurred to her that this was a fittingopportunity to do something which she longed and dreaded toaccomplish. 

Since her mother's death, since the moment when the three young girlshad bent over the coffin and strewed flowers over the form they loved, the sisters had not gone near this room. 

Hannah had dusted it and kept it tidy, but the blinds had been drawndown and the sun excluded. The girls had shrunk from entering thischamber; it seemed to them like a grave. They passed it with reverentsteps, and spoke in whispers as they stole on tiptoe by the closeddoor. 

It occurred, however, to Primrose that now was an opportunity when shemight come into the room and put some of her mother's treasuresstraight. She unlocked the door and entered; a chill, cold feelingstruck on her. Had she been Jasmine she would have turned and fled, but being Primrose, she instantly did what her clear common sense toldher was the sensible course. 

"We have made up our minds to go on as usual, " she said to herself;"and letting in the sunlight and the daylight is not forgetting ourdear mother. "

Then she pulled up the blinds, and threw the window-sashes wide open. 

A breath of soft warm air from the garden instantly filled the drearychamber, and Primrose, sitting down by an old-fashioned littlecabinet, slipped a key into the lock of the centre drawer, and openedit. 

Mrs. Mainwaring had been by no means a tidy or careful person--shehated locks, and seemed to have a regular aversion to neatly-keptdrawers or wardrobes, but this one little cabinet, which had belongedto the girls' father, was a remarkable exception to the general rule. 

Mrs. Mainwaring never, even to Primrose, parted with the key of thiscabinet. Whenever the girls were present it was locked--even Daisycould not coax mother to show her the contents of any of thosetempting little drawers--"only mementoes, darling--only mementoes, "the lady would say, but the girls knew that mother herself often inthe dead of night looked into the locked drawers, and they generallynoticed that the next day she was weaker and sadder than usual. 

On the top of the cabinet a miniature painting of Captain Mainwaringwas always to be found, and the girls used to love to keep a vase ofthe choicest flowers close to father's picture. 

When Mrs. Mainwaring died, Jasmine cried nearly the whole of one nightat the thought of the little old-fashioned cabinet--for now she feltquite sure that no one would ever dare to open it, "and I don't liketo think of the mementoes being never seen again, " she sobbed: "Itseems cruel to them. "

Then Primrose promised to undertake this dreaded task, and here washer opportunity. 

Primrose was not at all a nervous girl, and with the soft summer airfilling the chamber, and driving out all the ghosts of solitude andgloom, she commenced her task. She determined to look through thecontents of the little cabinet with method, and she resolved to beginwith the large centre drawer. She pulled it open, and was surprised tofind that it was nearly empty. 

A few papers, on which verses and quotations from Books of Sermonswere copied in her mother's hand-writing, lay about; these, and oneparcel which was carefully wrapped up in soft white tissue-paper, werethe sole contents of the centre drawer. Primrose pulled the parcelfrom where it lay half-hidden at the back of the drawer. She feltself-possessed, but her fingers trembled slightly as she touched it. It was folded up most carefully--the wrappings were kept in theirplace by white satin ribbon, and on a slip of white paper which hadbeen placed on the top of the parcel, and secured by the ribbon, Primrose read a few words:

"Arthur's little desk--for Primrose now. "

She felt her color coming high, and her heart beating. Who wasArthur?--she had never heard of him--her father's name had been John. Who was the unknown Arthur, whose desk was now given to her?

She untied the parcel slowly, but with shaking fingers. 

The little desk was a battered one, ink-stained, and of a slight andcheap construction. Inside it contained one treasure, a thick letter, with the words "For Primrose" written in her mother's writing on theenvelope. 

An unexpected message from those who are dead will set the strongestnerves quivering. At sight of this letter Primrose laid her prettyyellow head down on the little old cabinet, and sobbed long andbitterly. 

How long she might have wept she could never say, but her tears weresuddenly brought to an abrupt termination. When she entered hermother's room she had not locked the door, and now a voice sounded ather elbow:

"Eh!--my word--dear, dear, deary me! Now, Miss Primrose, to think ofyou creeping up like this, and 'worriting' yourself over the secretsin the little bit of a cabinet. Your poor mamma knew what she wasabout when she kept that cabinet locked, and for all the good they'llever do, she might well have burnt the bits of fallals she kept there. There, darling, don't spoil your pretty eyes crying over what's deadand gone, and can never be put right again--never. Shut up thecabinet, Miss Primrose, and put your hair a bit straight, for Mrs. Ellsworthy, from Shortlands, is down in the drawing-room, and wantingto see you most particular 'bad. '"

CHAPTER VI. 

MANY VISITORS. 

Miss Martineau's plans had been full of directness. Having made up hermind, she wasted no precious moments. The girls must be helped; shecould only give them counsel, but others could do more. Miss Martineaudetermined to go at once to the fountainhead. In short, she wouldattack the one and only rich person who lived in the neighborhood ofRosebury. Shortlands was a big place, and the Ellsworthys wereundoubtedly big people. Money with them was plentiful. They consideredthemselves county folk; they lived in what the Rosebury peoplebelieved to be royal style. 

Miss Martineau had for one short blissful week of her life spent thetime at Shortlands. She had been sent for in an emergency, to take theplace of a nursery governess who was ill. Her French had been oflittle account in this great house, and her music had not beentolerated. The poor old lady had indeed been rather snubbed. But whatof that? She was able to go back to her own intimate friends, andentertain them with accounts of powdered footmen, of richly-dressedLondon ladies, of a world of fashion which these people believed to beParadise. 

Twice during her week's sojourn she had been addressed by Mrs. Ellsworthy. No matter; from that day she considered herself one of thegreat lady's acquaintances. Miss Martineau could be heroic when shepleased, and there was certainly something of the heroic element abouther when she ventured to storm so mighty a citadel at eleven o'clockin the morning. 

Her very boldness, however, won her cause. The footman who opened thedoor might look as supercilious as he pleased, but he was obliged todeliver her messages, and Mrs. Ellsworthy, with a good-humored smile, consented to see her. 

Their interview was short, but Miss Martineau, when she launched onher theme, quite forgot that she was poor and her auditor rich. Mrs. Ellsworthy, too, after a few glances into the thin and earnest face ofthe governess, ceased to think of that antiquated poke bonnet, or theabsurdly old-fashioned cut of that ugly mantle. 

The two who talked so earnestly were women--women with kind and largehearts, and their theme was engrossing. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy bound herself by no promises, but she contrived tosend the governess away with a heart full of hope. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy had never yet called on any of the people who lived inthe straggling village of Rosebury. Therefore, when her carriage, withits prancing horses and perfect appointments, drew up at theMainwarings' door, the old-fashioned little place felt quite a flutterthrough its heart. 

Poppy Jenkins, the laundress's pretty daughter, came out into thestreet, and stared with all her eyes. The doctor's wife, who lived atthe opposite side of the street, gazed furtively and enviously frombehind her muslin blinds. The baker and the butcher neglected theirusual morning orders; and Hannah, the Mainwarings' servant, feltherself, as she expressed it, all of a tremble from top to toe. 

"Let me brush your hair, Miss Primrose, " she said, when she had atlast succeeded in inducing her young lady to dry her tears; "and areyour hands nice and clean, Miss Primrose? and your collar, is it neat?It's very condescending of Mrs. Ellsworthy to call. "

"I wonder what she has come about, " said Primrose; "she never knew mymother. "

Primrose felt at that moment the great lady's visit to be anintrusion. 

"I'll just run into the garden and stop Miss Jasmine and Miss Daisyrushing into the drawing-room all in a mess, " said Hannah. "Oh! sakesalive! why, the young ladies will be seen anyhow from the Frenchwindow. "

Hannah hurried off, wondering if she could smuggle these troublesomemembers of her flock out of sight through the kitchen. 

Alas! she was too late--when Primrose, slim and graceful, and with herpretty eyes only slightly reddened by her crying fit, entered thedrawing-room, she saw the French doors open, and her guest pacingtranquilly round the garden, hold the Pink in her arms, while Daisydanced in front of her, and Jasmine, chattering volubly, walked by herside. 

"I'm so glad you like those carnations, " Jasmine was saying. "Mammawas very fond of them. Shall I set some slips for you? I will withpleasure. "

"If Pink ever has a kitten you shall have it, " said Daisy solemnly. 

At this moment Primrose joined her sisters. 

"Oh, Primrose--something so delightful!" began Jasmine. 

"She thinks the Pink a perfect beauty. She wants another pussy justlike it, " burst from Daisy's pretty dimpled lips. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy, still keeping the Pink in her arms, held out herother hand to Primrose. 

"I have introduced myself to your sisters, dear Miss Mainwaring. I amMrs. Ellsworthy, of Shortlands--a near neighbor. You must not considermy visit an intrusion. "

Before Primrose could reply Jasmine exclaimed volubly--

"Indeed we don't--we are quite delighted; we were feeling ourselvesawfully dull. Miss Martineau said every one would call now she hadbeen. We did not want to see every one, but you are different. "

"You are delightful, " echoed Daisy. 

Primrose felt herself almost cross. "Girls, do stop chattering, " shesaid. "Mrs. Ellsworthy, I hope you will excuse my sisters; and won'tyou come into the drawing-room?"

"I am charmed with your sisters, " answered the great lady--"they arefresh, they are original. Dear Miss Mainwaring, why need we leave thisdelightful garden? can we not have our little talk here?"

"With pleasure, " said Primrose, but her stiffness did not disappear;she still had a slightly sore feeling at the bottom of her heart, andthe thought that Mrs. Ellsworthy never took the trouble to know dearmamma kept recurring. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy was quite woman of the world enough to read Primrose, and to guess what was in her heart. She saw at a glance that the girlswere ladies, and would not be patronized. Her task had seemed easyenough when she assured Miss Martineau that the poor young Mainwaringsmust be helped. When she ordered her carriage and drove into Roseburyshe made up her mind to discuss their affairs boldly with them, and tooffer them practical advice, and, if necessary, substantialassistance. The eldest girl, if she was at all presentable, might begot into some family as a nursery governess or companion, and she feltquite sure that she had sufficient interest to procure admissions forJasmine and Daisy into some of the schools especially started toeducate the orphan daughters of army men. 

But in the garden, although it was a very shabby little garden, thisprogramme did not seem quite so easy. Jasmine and Daisy weredelightful children; they hailed her instantly as a comrade; theythought nothing whatever of her wealth or her position. Shortlandsconveyed no meaning to their unsophisticated minds; they fullybelieved that Mrs. Ellsworthy envied them their carnations, and wouldhave been made happy by the possession of a kitten similar to thePink. Primrose, on the contrary, was proud and shy, and had no idea oftreating any stranger in a confidential manner. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy chatted on, but she never got beyond commonplaces; sheinvited the girls to visit her at Shortlands, and Primrose, reading agreat desire in Daisy's blue eyes, answered simply, "Thank you; weshall like to come very much. "

"I'll manage it when I get them to my own house, " thought Mrs. Ellsworthy; "it's quite absurd to be baffled by three little chits, but I'll settle everything in a satisfactory fashion when I get themto Shortlands. "

Aloud she said, "My dears, I shall be very glad to see you--and canyou come to-morrow? To-morrow I shall be quite alone. "

"Primrose, " burst from Daisy, "there's a Newfoundland dog, and amastiff, and two English terriers at Shortlands. The Newfoundland isblack and woolly and the mastiff is tawny, like a lion. "

"Will you really show us over your beautiful conservatories?" askedJasmine. "Primrose, she was telling us about her flowers; and theymust be lovely. "

"I'll show you everything, and take you everywhere, " responded Mrs. Ellsworthy, stooping down to kiss Jasmine's upturned face. "You'llbring your sisters to-morrow, Miss Mainwaring, " she continued, turningto the grave Primrose. 

"Thank you--yes. It is kind of you to ask us, " answered Primrose. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy drove away in state, and the sisters saw her off fromtheir door-steps. They made a pretty group as they stoodtogether--Daisy's arms clasped her elder sister's waist, and Jasmineshaded her dark eyes from the full blaze of the sun with her littlewhite dimpled hand. 

As the great lady drove away Jasmine had actually the audacity to blowa kiss to her. 

The neighbors at the opposite side of the street felt quitescandalized, and said to themselves that surely the poor young ladieshad seen the last of Mrs. Ellsworthy, after such a piece ofimpertinence. But the lady of Shortlands was really delighted. 

"To think of my being here all these years, and never knowing thosecharming creatures, " she soliloquized. Just then she saw MissMartineau crossing the street, and she ordered her coachman to drawup. 

"I have been with them, dear Miss Martineau--they are delightful--sofresh--and so--so pretty! They are coming to Shortlands to-morrow. Good-bye--warm morning, is it not? Home, Tomlinson. "

The girls had entered the little house, cheered by Mrs. Ellsworthy'svisit. Primrose, it is true, did not share her younger sisters'enthusiasm, but even she was pleased, and owned to herself that Mrs. Ellsworthy was a very different neighbor from the village folk. 

Primrose's mind, however, was a good deal absorbed by what she haddiscovered in her mother's little old-fashioned cabinet. A letterdirected to herself lay there unopened. She longed to break the seal, and to acquaint herself with the contents of this message from thedead. She longed to read the letter, but she knew she could only do soat some quiet moment. She must peruse those beloved words when she wasalone and quite sure of being undisturbed. She thought she might slipaway into a little glade at the back of the house that afternoon, andthere read her letter, and ponder over its contents. 

Events, however, were to occur which would prevent Primrose carryingout this scheme. 

Immediately after dinner Miss Martineau's well-known knock was heardat the hall-door, and Miss Martineau herself, bristling withexcitement and curiosity, invaded the girls in their drawing-room. 

"Now, my dears, tell me all about her. Is she not fascinating? She isgreatly pleased with you three--you have made a most properimpression; and you are to go to spend the day at Shortlandsto-morrow. Now, my loves, tell me what arrangements she has come to--Iam so _deeply_ interested, my poor darlings. "

Miss Martineau, as she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on Primrose; butthat young lady only gave her a puzzled look, and, after a shortpause, said quietly--

"I don't understand you. We have made no special arrangements. Mrs. Ellsworthy was friendly, and she asked us to come and see her atShortlands; and we are going. Miss Martineau, I am so very busy thisafternoon; will you forgive me if I run away?"

Primrose left the room, and Miss Martineau, turning to Jasmine, clasped her hands in some excitement. 

"Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed, "I do hope Primrose won't spoileverything by those little proud airs of hers; they really are--yes, Iam grieved to be obliged to say it--but they really are affected. Now, Jasmine darling, a great deal depends on this visit--yes, a greatdeal. You and Daisy must be on your very best behavior. You have neverbeen in a great house like Shortlands, and it is only right that I, your instructress, should tell you how you are to behave. You musttake no liberties, dear; and you must not speak too much, or too fast;and you must look _very_ grateful when Mrs. Ellsworthy notices you, loves. Oh, my poor dears! I feel over anxious, for so much depends onto-morrow. "

It was now Jasmine's turn to stare, and to begin to say--"I don'tunderstand you. " But Daisy burst out volubly--

"We are going up to Shortlands to run about--she said so. She said wewere to see the dogs--the black woolly Newfoundland and the tawnymastiff; and she has got a snow-white Persian kitten, only she likesthe Pink best; and I promised her that if ever the Pink had a littlekit of her own she should have it. Mrs. Ellsworthy didn't say a wordabout being horrid, and proper, and waiting until you are spoken to. Iwon't go to Shortlands if I have to behave like that, I won't, "concluded spoiled Daisy, pouting her lips. 

Jasmine bent forward and kissed her. "You may do just what you like, darling little Eyebright, " she said. 

"Oh, Miss Martineau, really Mrs. Ellsworthy is not at all what youpicture her. I should say she was the kind of lady who likes a realromp. Anyhow, she does not at all want people to be stiff with her. Daisy, and she, and I were as jolly as possible until Primrose camedownstairs, and I suppose Primrose agreed with you, and thought it wasmanners to be formal. But, poor dear, she did not like it a bit. Wethree were having such a chatter before Primrose came. She is going toshow me all her conservatories to-morrow, and she took a great fancyto my carnations. I promised her some slips. Oh dear! oh dear! who isthat knocking at the hall door? Daisy, run and peep from behind thecurtain, and let me know. "

Daisy started off on the instant, and returned in a moment with theintelligence that Mr. Danesfield, the manager of the bank, wasstanding on the steps, and that his face was very red. 

On hearing this intelligence poor Miss Martineau's face also becamesuffused with a deep flush, and she pushed her poke bonnet a littlebackward in her excitement. An awful idea had suddenly darted throughher brain. 

Perhaps Mr. Danesfield had called to announce some misfortune. Perhapsthe two hundred pounds was lost; perhaps there was no balance at thebank!

When the good gentleman was ushered into the room she glanced at himmysteriously, and even while he was shaking hands with Jasmine andDaisy, began letting fall short, but mysterious sentences--

"Mrs. Ellsworthy has called--_much_ pleased--inclined to take them up. They are to spend to-morrow at Shortlands. " Mr. Danesfield raised hiseyebrows, pulled Daisy to stand between his knees; and, staring atMiss Martineau over his gold-rimmed glasses, said--

"Eh! eh!--Shortlands--Ellsworthy's--worthy folk!" here he laughed, pleased with his pun; "yes, Miss Martineau, a good opportunity, undoubtedly!"

At this moment Primrose came into the room, and Miss Martineau, judging that she might best serve her cause by retiring from the sceneof action, went away. 

Mr. Danesfield did not pay a long visit. He had known the Mainwarings, although not very intimately, for years. He was a good-hearted, kind, and very busy man, and during their mother's lifetime he had taken butlittle notice of the girls. 

To-day, however, he seemed to regard them with fresh interest. Heassured Primrose that if he could assist her in any business capacityhe would only be too pleased to do so. "Our good friend Miss Martineauassures me that your means are likely to be a little straitened, mydear. I am sincerely sorry, although there are worse troubles--yes, assuredly, far worse troubles. It cannot do a healthy girl any harm towork. Yes, come to me for advice if you care to, and look on me as anold friend. And hark ye, Miss Primrose, I am glad Mrs. Ellsworthy hascalled. Make the most of your opportunity at Shortlands, my dears. Yes; I'll look in another day with pleasure. Good-bye, good-bye. "

When Mr. Danesfield went away the two elder sisters looked at eachother. What did it all mean? What mystery was there in the air?Jasmine thought both Miss Martineau and Mr. Danesfield verydisagreeable but Primrose pondered these things and felt anxious. 

CHAPTER VII. 

SHORTLANDS. 

"A most extraordinary thing has happened, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy thatevening to her husband. "We have lived for several years atShortlands, and except when we have people in the house I haveactually been without any society. My dear Joseph, you will forgive mycounting you as nobody at all. Well, we have lived here, and I haveoften been dull beyond words, and yet the nicest creatures have beenwithin a stone's throw of me. "

Mr. Ellsworthy was at least twenty years older than his wife--areserved individual, with a rather long and melancholy face. Mrs. Ellsworthy was plump, and round, and pretty--kittenish some peoplecalled her. 

She was certainly fond of emphasizing her words, and of going intoraptures, and her husband now only raised his eyebrows, and said, "Well, Kate?" in a somewhat lethargic voice. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy left her seat, and drew a small easy-chair close tothe fire, for though the weather was hot Mrs. Ellsworthy alwaysinsisted on indulging in this evening luxury. 

Planting herself luxuriously in this chair, the little lady began hernarrative. 

"Now, Joseph, I will tell you my story. Do you remember thatoutlandish-looking governess who came up here for a week to try tokeep Frankie in order before we sent him to school? Oh, what ablessing it is to have that boy at school! Do you remember MissMartineau, Joseph?"

"There was an authoress of the name, my love; but surely she diedbefore we came to Shortlands?"

"Joseph, how stupid you are! I mean a dear, obsolete creature in thevillage. However, it is not the slightest matter whether you rememberher or not. She came here again this morning, and begged of me tointerest myself in the cause of three destitute orphans who lived in alittle house in the village. She spoke most kindly about them, butsaid they were a little unfinished, and not, in her opinion, verycapable; but she described them as pretty and young, and, oh, soappallingly poor! And somehow the good old creature touched my heart, and I said I would certainly help them. I ordered the carriage anddrove into the village. I expected to see--well, you know, the sort ofgirl who is likely to be found in a little village like Rosebury, Joseph--the awkward and shy young miss. I imagined them as being sograteful for my notice; indeed, a little overpowered; for, you know, Idon't know the Rosebury folk. Well, my dear, what do you think Ifound?"

"It is really difficult to tell, Kate. I should judge, however, fromyour excited manner and your unusual enthusiasm, that you found youngladies. "

"Joseph, you are a genius. I did. In the funniest, pokiest, queerestlittle house that you can possibly imagine; I discovered threecharming, well-bred girls. The two youngest made friends with me intheir shabby little garden. They greeted me, I assure you, with themost delightful frankness and ease. I told them who I was, and theywere not the least impressed; on the contrary, the one they calledJasmine--oh! she is a pretty creature--fancied I was dying for somecarnations like hers, and the little one holds out hopes that some dayI may possess a kitten similar to the one she thrust into my arms. They were as shabbily dressed as possible, but who could look at them, dear pets, and think twice about their dresses? We got on mostpleasantly, and found we had many interests in common, for the littleone shared my love for animals, and the elder my passion for flowers. On this scene the eldest sister made her appearance. I assure you, Joseph, it is almost too absurd, but it is a fact; she actuallycontrived to snub me. I read as plainly as possible in those pretty, serene eyes of hers the question, 'How is it that you, who nevercondescended to know my mother, intrude upon us now, in our loss?' Shewas most gentle and most dignified, but I could as soon take libertieswith her as with--with--you, Joseph, when you choose to exert yourauthority. After Miss Mainwaring came, I thought it best to run away;but before I went I extracted a promise from the three darlings tocome and spend the day here to-morrow. Really, Joseph, I have had asurprising day; but I remember now that Miss Martineau did saysomething about these children being well born. "

Mr. Ellsworthy again raised his eyebrows. 

"I had an acquaintance once of the name, " he said, "but I lost sightof him years ago. It is a good name. Well, Kate, you will do what youcan for your _protegées_. I am glad you have found some objects ofinterest close to your own gates. "

Here Mrs. Ellsworthy dropped her slightly frivolous tone, and risingfrom her seat, went up to her husband. 

"Joseph, " she said, "I want you to contrive to be at home for lunchto-morrow. I want you to see my girls, and to advise me how best tohelp them. Primrose is so proud and so inexperienced; the two youngerones, of course, know nothing of either poverty or riches; they liveas the flowers live, and are happy for the same reason. Do you know, Joseph, that the eldest of these sisters is not seventeen, and theyoungest only ten; that they seem to be absolutely without relations, almost without friends, and that between them they have only aGovernment grant of thirty pounds a year. "

Here Mrs. Ellsworthy's pretty bright blue eyes filled with tears, andher husband, stooping down, kissed her. 

"I will make a point of seeing those girls to-morrow Kate, " he said. "I am glad you have come across them. "

Then he went off to his library, where he sat, and read, and losthimself in great thoughts far into the night. It is to be feared thatduring these hours he forgot the Mainwarings and their troubles. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy had appointed noon the next day to receive her youngguests, and punctual to the moment the three walked into herdrawing-room. 

Daisy instantly commented on this fact. "There's the last stroke oftwelve striking from the church clock, " she exclaimed. "Oh, please!where's the Persian kitten?"

"I have brought you all the carnations that were in flower, " saidJasmine. "Smell them; aren't they delicious? Mamma used to love themso--I would not give them to any one but you. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy stooped and kissed Jasmine, and taking her hand, gaveit a little squeeze. "Thank you, my love, " she said--"I value yourbeautiful flowers--you shall arrange them yourself in this ambervase. "

"They are such a vivid crimson, they would look best against white, "answered Jasmine, raising her eyes a little anxiously. "I like toarrange flowers to look like a picture. Mamma always allowed me toarrange the flowers, and Primrose will in the future. " Here Jasminewent up to Primrose, and took her hand, and the elder sister smiled ather with great affection, and said, looking at Mrs. Ellsworthy, "Wecall Jasmine our artist at home. "

"And our poet--she makes poetry about the Pink at home, " said Daisy. "Oh, dear!" she continued, giving a deep sigh, "I can't see thePersian kitten anywhere. I do hope what Miss Martineau said is nottrue. "

"What did she say, my dear?" asked the lady of Shortlands. 

"Oh, a lot of nonsense--that this was a great house, and we were tosit on chairs, and not speak unless you spoke to us, and we were notto play with the Persian kitten, nor see the dogs. She said you werea very grand lady, and that was the proper way to go on--we didn'tagree with her, did we, Jasmine?"

"No, of course we didn't, " said Jasmine; "we knew better. "

"We said you were a romp, " continued Daisy. "You seemed like it in ourgarden. I wouldn't have come if I thought you were one of those ladieswho wanted little girls to sit on chairs. Oh! do say you are a romp. "

Here there was a laugh heard behind them, and Mr. Ellsworthy came upand joined the group. He greeted the girls kindly, and very soondiscovered that their father had been the old acquaintance whom he hadknown of the name. Then he and Primrose went off together, and Mrs. Ellsworthy took the two young girls' hands. 

"My darling, " she said, "with the single exception of my only son, Frankie, who is at present at school, I am the greatest romp inexistence. Now let us come out into the sunshine and enjoy ourselves. "

The few hours the girls spent at Shortlands passed only too quicklyfor Jasmine and Daisy. Mrs. Ellsworthy laid herself out to becharming, and no one could be more charming than she when she chose. She had naturally a good deal of sympathy, and taking her cue from thelittle ones, she entered into their lives, and became one with them. Jasmine and Daisy became quite merry. An indiscriminating observerwould have said: "How shocking to hear such merry laughter--theirmother has only been dead a month. " But Mrs. Ellsworthy had far tookind a heart to do these children such an injustice. She knew that thedark lines under Jasmine's bright eyes were caused by the passion of agreat grief; but she also knew that with such a nature sunshine mustfollow storm. Daisy in the midst of her play, too, began suddenly tocry. 

"What is the matter, my little one?" asked the lady of the house. Thechild put her arms round her neck, and whispered through sobs: "I amso happy now; but I know I'll be miserable bye-and-bye. I'll want sobadly to tell mamma about you, and mamma won't be there. "

Primrose was also serenely happy--she was glad to hear her sisters'laughter, and she liked to walk about the beautiful place, and to feelthe soft summer air on her cheeks. 

The village of Rosebury lay low; but Shortlands stood on risingground, and the more bracing air did Primrose good. When she saw howhappy Mrs. Ellsworthy made her sisters she forgave her for not callingon her mother. 

Mr. Ellsworthy took a good deal of notice of Primrose, and showed hersome of his pet books, and talked to her in a sensible grown-up way. Jasmine and Daisy were young for their years, but Primrose was old, and she liked to ask practical questions. Had she known Mr. Ellsworthya little better she might have even consulted him as to the best wayof laying out thirty pounds per annum, so as to cover all the expensesof three girls who wished to live as ladies; but she was both shy andreserved; and when Mr. Ellsworthy, goaded on by certain looks from hiswife, referred to the subject of money, Primrose started aside from itlike any frightened young fawn. 

The day, the happy day for all three, passed only too quickly, and itwas Mrs. Ellsworthy at last who determined to plunge boldly into theheart of the subject which was uppermost in her thoughts. 

"Primrose, " she said, taking the elder sister aside, "you must forgiveme for speaking plainly to you, dear. I call you Primrose, because youdo not seem to me altogether a stranger, and my husband knew yourfather. I may call you Primrose, may I not, love?"

"Please, do, " said Primrose, with that sweet smile which came onlyrarely to her quiet face; "I like it--it is my name. When people sayMiss Mainwaring I feel--lonely. "

"You are Primrose, then, to me, dear. Now, Primrose, take my hand, and sit quietly in this chair. I am going to confess something to you. I called to see you and your sisters yesterday morning, intending topatronize you. "

"To patronize us--why?" asked Primrose. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy laughed in a slightly nervous manner. 

"My dear child, we won't go into the whys and the wherefores. I foundI could not do it, that is all. I have not, however, half finished myconfession. I called to see you because Miss Martineau asked me to. "

Here Primrose flushed a very rosy pink, and Mrs. Ellsworthy saw adispleased look fill her eyes. 

"You must not be angry with Miss Martineau, Primrose. She loves youthree girls very much. She is most anxious about you. She--my dear, she told me of your poverty. "

Here Primrose rose from her seat and said, in the quietest tone--

"We are certainly poor, but I don't think that is anybody's concern. We don't mind it ourselves--at least, not much. You see, we have neverknown riches, and we cannot miss what we have never had. It would be agreat pity for people to try to make us discontented. I think it wasill-bred of Miss Martineau to mention our private affairs to you; butstill, as we have got to know you through these means, I forgive her. You are a very delightful friend. Mrs. Ellsworthy, I think you mustlet us go home now--Daisy is not accustomed to being up so late. "

"Of all the tiresome, hard-to-be-understood young people I ever cameacross, Primrose Mainwaring beats them, " thought Mrs. Ellsworthy toherself; but aloud she said very sweetly--

"Yes, dear--and you shall drive home in the carriage I could not hearof your walking. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

THIRTY POUNDS A YEAR. 

Miss Ellsworthy thought Primrose both tiresome and obtuse, but hereshe was mistaken. 

Miss Martineau's solemn looks, Mr. Danesfield's emphatic injunctionsto make the most of their visit to Shortlands, and, above all, theexpression of deep distress on Mrs. Ellsworthy's charming face whenshe spoke of their poverty, were by no means thrown away on her. 

She felt very grave as the three sisters were driven home in theEllsworthys' luxurious carriage. She scarcely joined at all inJasmine's chatter, nor did she notice Daisy's raptures over a tinywhite pup--Mrs. Ellsworthy's parting gift. 

On their arrival at home the Pink greeted this unlooked-for additionto the family with a furious assault; and Jasmine, Daisy, and Hannahwere all intensely excited over the task of dividing the combatants;but Primrose felt but small interest, and owned that she had a slightheadache. 

Nevertheless, when the younger girls retired to bed she sat up, and, taking out an account-book, began an impossible task. Even all theresources of this young and vigorous brain could not make thirtypounds cover a year's expenses. Again and again Primrose tried. Therent of the cottage was twelve pounds a year. She pronounced thisextravagant, and wondered if they could possibly get a cheaperdwelling. 

Then there were Hannah's wages. Well, of course, they could do withoutHannah--it would be very painful to part with her, but anything wouldbe better than the humiliating conclusion that Mrs. Ellsworthy andMiss Martineau considered them too poor to live. Then, of course, theycould do without meat--what did healthy girls want with meat?Only--and here Primrose sighed deeply--Daisy was not _very_ strong. Eggs were cheap enough in Rosebury, and so was butter, and they couldbake their own bread; and as to clothes, they would not want any morefor a long time. Here Primrose again felt herself pulled up short, forJasmine's walking-shoes were nearly worn through. 

She went to bed at last, feeling very depressed and anxious. Thirtypounds was really a much smaller sum of money than she had given itcredit for being. Try as she might, it would not stretch itself overthe expenses of even the humblest establishment of three. She was muchcomforted, however, by the reflection that there remained a large sumto their credit in the bank. Primrose found her faith shaken in thecapacities of an income of thirty pounds a year; but a sum total oftwo hundred pounds she still believed to be almost inexhaustible. Sheresolved to go and consult Mr. Danesfield on the morrow. 

Mr. Danesfield was generally to be found in his private room at thebank by ten o'clock in the morning. Very soon after that hour on thefollowing day a clerk came to say that one of the young ladies fromWoodbine Cottage wanted to see him. "The eldest young lady, and shesays her business is very pressing, " continued the man. 

The bank at Rosebury was only a branch office of a large establishmentin the nearest town. It happened that that morning Mr. Danesfield wasparticularly busy, and anxious to get away to the large bank at anearly hour. For more reasons than one, therefore he felt annoyed atPrimrose's visit. 

"Poor child, " he said to himself, "I have certainly nothing very goodto tell her; and I have undoubtedly no time to waste over her thismorning. "

Aloud, however, he said to his clerk--

"Ask Miss Mainwaring to step this way--and, Dawson, order my trap tobe at the door in ten minutes. "

"I won't keep you very long, Mr. Danesfield, " began Primrose, in aquick and rather nervous manner for her. 

Mr. Danesfield was always the soul of politeness, however irritable hemight feel. 

"Sit down, my dear young lady, " he said; "I am delighted to see you, and I can give you exactly five minutes. "

"I want to ask you two questions, " began Primrose. "The questions areshort. They are about money; and you understand all about that. "

"Not all, my dear girl--money is far too great a theme to be whollycomprehended by one single individual. "

Primrose tapped her foot impatiently--then, after a brief pause, sheraised her clear brown eyes, and looked full at the banker. 

"How much money have we in the bank, Mr. Danesfield?"

"My dear child, not much--very little, scarcely anything. 'Pon myword, I am sorry for you, but your entire capital does not amount toquite two hundred pounds. "

Primrose received this information calmly. 

"Thank you, " she said--"I just wanted to know from yourself. Now, Ihave one other question to ask you, and then I will go. My sisters andI have thirty pounds a year to live on. By drawing a little on ourcapital, say, taking ten or fifteen pounds a year from it, can welive, Mr. Danesfield?"

Mr. Danesfield rose from his seat, and coming over to Primrose, laidhis hand on her shoulder--

"Live! my poor, dear child; you and your sisters would starve. No, Miss Mainwaring, there is nothing for you three girls to do but toturn to and earn your living. Your friends, I doubt not, will help, and you must take their help. I shall be delighted to give advice. Now, my dear child, my trap is at the door, and I must go. Goodmorning--good morning. "

CHAPTER IX. 

A STRANGE LETTER AND A PROPOSED VISIT TO LONDON. 

Primrose was always direct in her movements--she made up her mindquickly; from her earliest childhood she was in the habit of actingwith decision. 

After her short interview with Mr. Danesfield she went straight home, and without paying any attention to the clear voice of her pet Daisy, who called to her from the garden, or to Jasmine's littleimpatient--"Sister, I want you to help me to arrange the trimming onmy new black skirt, " she ran upstairs, and locked herself into hermother's room. 

There she once more opened the old davenport, and took from it thethick packet, which contained a shabby little desk, inside of whichlay a letter directed to herself. 

Now at last she opened the letter, and in her own great perplexityread the message from the grave. 

The letter was dated about three months back, and was in her mother'sneatest and most easily read writing. 

"My dear daughter, " it began, "I have no present reason to supposethat my life will be cut short, therefore I cannot tell whether thisletter will be read by you now, while you are young, or years hence, when your youth is over. 

"One thing I have resolved--you shall not know the little secret itcontains during my lifetime. I keep it from you, my darling, because Icould not bear you to speak of it to me, because at the time it gaveme such agony that I have locked it up in my heart, and no one, noteven my own child, must open the doors where my dead secret lies. 

"Primrose, whenever I die, this letter will reach you--you will findit in the ordinary course of things in my cabinet; but even in thisletter I cannot tell you all the story--you must go to Hannah forparticulars--she has been with me all my married life, and knows asmuch as I do. 

"Once, when you were a little child of only six years old, I came intothe room where you slept, and I heard her saying to you, as she tuckedyou up for the night--

"You must be very good to your mamma, Miss Primrose, for she has knowntrouble. "

"Neither you nor she saw me, and you raised your dear eyes to herface, and I heard you say--

"'What is trouble, nursey Hannah?'

"'Trouble is a burden too heavy to be borne, ' Hannah answered, 'butwhen you came, Missy, it went away--you were like the spring to mymissus, and that is why she called you Primrose. '

"That night I called Hannah aside, and I made the faithful creaturepromise that she would never again allude to my trouble to any of mychildren. She promised, and kept her word. 

"Now, darling, you shall learn what nearly broke my heart; what wouldhave quite broken it had God not sent me my three girls. 

"Primrose, something more bitter than death came to your mother. Yourfather is dead--I know where his bones lie--I know that I shall meethim again, and I don't rebel. My other trouble was far, far worse thanthat--

"Darling, you are not my eldest child--you are not the first bonnybaby who lay in my arms. Years before you were born I had a son. Oh!how can I speak of him?--he seemed to be more beautiful than any otherchild--he had ways--he had looks--Primrose, I can't go on, you mustask Hannah to tell you what my boy was like. I had him for five years, then I lost him; he did not die--he was stolen from me. Can you wondernow that your mother sometimes looks sad, and that even you andJasmine and Daisy fail now and then to make me smile?

"My bonny boy was stolen. I never saw him dead; I never could go tohis grave to put flowers there--twenty years ago now he was taken fromme, and I have had neither trace nor tidings of him. 

"Hannah will tell you particulars, Primrose, for I cannot. My troublefar surpassed the bitterness of death. Only for you three, I could nothave lived--

 "Your mother, "Constance Mainwaring. "

Primrose had scarcely finished reading this letter, and had by nomeans taken in the full meaning of its contents, when light, softfootsteps paused outside the room, and she heard the handle of thedoor being very softly turned. 

Cramming the letter into her pocket, and shutting the lid of thelittle cabinet, she ran and unlocked the door. Jasmine was standingwithout. 

"I looked for you everywhere, Primrose, and I did not mean really todisturb you here; I thought you might be here, and I tried the handlevery softly, meaning to steal away again. Are you very busy, Primrose?"

"I can come with you if you want me for anything, Jasmine, " answeredPrimrose, putting her hand to her head in a dazed sort of way. 

Jasmine's brow cleared, and her face grew bright instantly. 

"It's rather exciting, " she said; "I'm so glad you can come. It isabout Poppy Jenkins--Poppy is downstairs--she is going away--she hascome to say good-bye. Do you know, Primrose, that she is actuallygoing to London?"

Jasmine looked so delighted and eager that Primrose could not helpsmiling, and taking her sister's hand, they ran downstairs together. 

Poppy, who had very black eyes, cheeks with a brilliant color, andhair like a raven's wing, was standing in the drawing-room twistingher apron strings and chatting volubly to Daisy. She had known thegirls all her life, and not only loved them dearly, but respected themmuch. To Poppy Jenkins there never were three such beautiful andaltogether charming young ladies as the Misses Mainwaring. 

When Primrose appeared she dropped her a curtsey--perhaps sherespected Primrose the most, and loved her the least. 

"It's to say good-bye, miss, " she began, "I called in, hoping for lastwords with you three dear young ladies. I is summoned to London, MissPrimrose. "

Nothing could exceed the air of modest pride with which Poppy madethis declaration; she quite expected Primrose to be both startled anddazzled, and said afterwards that it was rather like a little streamof cold water trickling down her back when Miss Mainwaring repliedquietly--

"London is a long way off, Poppy--why are you going there?"

"I has an aunt in the boarding-house way, Miss Primrose--she keeps avery select establishment; and most particular; don't admit nogentlemen. It's for ladies only, aunt's boarding-house is, miss, andshe wrote to mother that it's a flourishing concern, and she wants agirl who will be honest, and handy, and country-bred, to help wait onthe ladies. She has offered the situation to me, miss, as in dutybound, I being her own niece, and mother is pleased to accept. I callsit a dazzling prospect, Miss Primrose. "

"I am delighted, " began Primrose; but Jasmine interrupted her. "Dazzling, " she repeated, "of course it is dazzling, Poppy. I am sovery glad you are going. I only wish I were going. If there is awonderful, delightful, charming place, it is London. I have read aboutit, and I have dreamed about it, and I have pictured it. What fun youwill have! Of course your aunt will take you to see all the sights. Oh, do sit down. Primrose, we ought to tell her about the places sheshould see, ought we not?"

Primrose nodded, and Poppy dropped on to the edge of the nearestchair, and, clasping her red and hard-worked hands in front of her, prepared herself to listen. 

"First of all, Poppy, " began Jasmine, after waiting for her sister tospeak; but Primrose was strangely silent. 

"First of all, Poppy, you must go to the places which improve yourmind; now, I do hope you are not going to be giddy, running just afterpretty things; but I suppose your aunt, who is so wise, and who keepsthe boarding-house, will see to that. Well, first of all you hadbetter go to Westminster Abbey. Oh, Poppy! I have read such gloriousdescriptions of it--the lights from the painted windows--thewonderfully ancient look of the old pillars, and then the music; itpeals down the aisles and echoes through the fretted roofs; you willbe greatly overpowered at Westminster Abbey, Poppy; but you mustremember that you are a very privileged person, and be thankful forbeing permitted to see with your own eyes such a lovely, lovely, glorious place!"

"It do sound, from your description, very awe-inspiring, MissJasmine, " answered Poppy. "Is there no other place where one might getmore, so to speak, into the festive mood, miss?"

"Oh yes, you silly Poppy, lots and lots; but we'll come to thosepresently. You'll have to see the Houses of Parliament, where our lawsare made--if you don't feel grave there, you ought. Then you mustvisit the Tower, where people's heads were cut off--it's very solemnindeed at the Tower; and, of course, you will pay a visit to the Zoo, and you can see the lions fed, and you can look at the monkey-house. "

"I likes monkeys, " said Poppy, whose face had been growing graver andgraver while Jasmine was talking; "and if you'll throw in a little bitof gazing into shop windows, Miss Jasmine, and learning the newestcuts of a bonnet, and the most genteel fit of a mantle, why, then, I'll do even that dreadful Tower, as in duty bound. My mother callsLondon a vast sea and a world of temptation, and nothing but vanityfrom end to end; but when I thinks of the beautiful ladies in aunt'sboarding-house, and of the shop windows I feels that it is dazzling. "

"I wish that I were going, " repeated Jasmine, whose cheeks wereflushed, and her starry eyes brighter than usual; "I wish I weregoing. Oh, Primrose, think of you, and Daisy, and me saying ourprayers in the Abbey!"

"We must not think of it, " said Primrose; "God hears our prayerswherever we say them, Jasmine, darling. "

"Yes, " answered Jasmine; "and I am not going to complain. Well, Poppy, you are a very lucky girl, and I hope you'll be as good as gold, andas happy as the day is long. "

"And if ever you does come to London, Miss Jasmine, " said Poppy, risingto her feet, "you'll remember aunt's boarding-house, for ladies only;and proud I'll be to wait on you, miss. "

"But we can't come, Poppy dear--we are very poor now--we have only gotthirty pounds a year to live on. "

To Poppy, who had never been known in her life to possess thirtypence, this sum sounded by no means modest. 

"Might I make bold to inquire, miss, " she asked, "if the thirty poundsis once for all, or if it's a yearly recurrence?"

"Oh, it's an income, Poppy--how stupid you are!"

"Then I'll consult my aunt in town, miss, and try to find out if youthree dear young ladies couldn't contrive a London visit out of partof the savings. "

After this sapient speech Poppy bade the Mainwarings good-bye. Theylooked after her retreating form down the street with many regrets, for they were very fond of her, and Jasmine at least envied her. 

CHAPTER X. 

WAYS OF EARNING A LIVING. 

That night, after her sisters were in bed, Primrose again sat uplate--once again she read her mother's letter; then burying her facein her hands, she sat for a long, long time lost in thought. 

Jasmine and Daisy, all unconcerned and unconscious, slept overhead, but Hannah was anxious about her young mistress, and stepped into thedrawing-room, and said in her kind voice--

"Hadn't you better be getting your beauty sleep, missie?"

"Oh, Hannah! I am so anxious, " said Primrose. 

"Now, deary, whatever for?" asked the old servant. 

Primrose hesitated. She wanted to talk to Hannah about her mother'sletter; she half took it out of her pocket, then she restrainedherself. 

"Another time, " she whispered to herself. Aloud she said--

"Hannah, Mrs. Ellsworthy and Miss Martineau hinted to me what Mr. Danesfield said plainly to-day--we three girls have not got moneyenough to live on. "

"Eh, dear!" answered Hannah, dropping on to the nearest chair, "andare you putting yourself out about that, my pretty? Why, tisn't likelythat you three young ladies could support yourselves. Don't you fretabout that, Miss Primrose; why, you'll get quite old with fretting, and lose all your nice looks. You go to bed, my darling--there's aProvidence over us, and he'll find ways and means to help you. "

Primrose rose to her feet, some tears came to her eyes, and takingHannah's hard old hand, she stooped and kissed her. 

"I won't fret, Hannah, " she said, "and I'll go to bed instantly. Thankyou for reminding me about God. " Then she lit her bedroom candle andwent very gently up the stairs to her bedroom, but as she laid herhead on the pillow she said to herself--"Even Hannah sees that wecan't live on our income. "

The next morning early Primrose said rather abruptly to her twosisters--

"I have found out the meaning of Miss Martineau's fussiness and Mrs. Ellsworthy's kindness. They are both sorry for us girls, for they knowwe can't live on thirty pounds a year. "

"Oh, what nonsense!" said Jasmine; "any one can live on thirty poundsa year. Didn't you see how Poppy opened her eyes when we mentionedit;--she thought it quite a lot of money, and said we could come toLondon out of the savings. I am sure, Primrose, if any one ought toknow, it is Poppy, for her mother is really very poor. "

"Mr. Danesfield, too, says we can't live on it, " continued Primrose;"and when I asked Hannah last night, she said 'Of course not'--that noone expected us to. Now look here, Jasmine, this is all quite fresh toyou and Daisy, but I'm accustomed to it, for I have known it fortwenty-four hours, and what I say is this, if we can't live on ourincome we have got to make some more income to live on. If thirtypounds a year is not enough for us at the end, neither is it enoughfor us at the beginning, so we had better see about earning an incomeat once, or we'll get into debt, which will be quite awful. Jasmine, Iam afraid the days of our merry childhood are over, and I am so sorryfor you and Daisy, for you are both very young. "

"Oh, I don't mind, " said Jasmine--"I--I--I'd do anything--I fancy Icould make dresses best, or--Oh, suppose I wrote poetry, and sold it?You know you and Daisy do like my poems. Do you remember how you criedover the one I called 'An Ode to the Swallow?'"

"No, I didn't cry over that one, " interrupted Daisy. "I thought thatone rather stupid--I cried over the one in which you spoke about mydarling Pink being caught in a trap, and having her leg broken. "

"Oh, that one, " repeated Jasmine--"I thought that one a little vulgar. I only made it up to please you, Daisy. Primrose, don't you noticewhat a lot of poems there are in all the magazines, and of course, somebody must write them. I should not be a bit surprised if I couldadd to our income by writing poetry, Primrose. All the books, nearlyall the magazines and newspapers, come from London. Poppy will not begoing to London until to-morrow--I'll run round this morning and askher to try and find out for me which of the publishers want poems likemy 'Ode to the Swallow. ' Perhaps they'd like it in the ---- _Review_;only the ---- _Review_ is so horribly deep. My ode is deep too, forDaisy cannot understand it. Perhaps I could send my poem about Pink toone of the other magazines. Oh, Primrose! may I run round to Poppy, and see if she can help us?"

Primrose smiled very faintly, and it dawned across her again in rathera painful manner what a mere child her little sister was. 

"I think I wouldn't, darling, " she said. "Poppy could not really helpyou about publishers. Look here, Jasmine and Daisy; here is a letter Ifound in mamma's cabinet yesterday--it is directed to me, but the newsit contains is for us all; will you and Daisy go out into the gardenand read it together. You will be very much astonished when you readthe letter--poor mamma, what she must have suffered! While you arereading I will go out. Mr. Danesfield says I may consult him, and as Iknow he is a wise man, I will do so. "

"Would you like to take my ode with you?" inquired Jasmine. 

"No, not to-day, dear--if I am not in to dinner, don't wait for me. "

"I know one thing; we'll be very saving about that dinner, " remarkedJasmine, shaking back her curly locks. "If you are not in, Primrose, Daisy and I will divide an egg between us--I read somewhere that eggswere very nourishing, and half a one each will do fine. Come into thegarden now, Eyebright. Oh, Primrose! I don't feel a bit low aboutadding to our income. If we choose we can eat so very little, andthen if the ---- _Review_ likes my poetry, I can spin it off by theyard. "

CHAPTER XI. 

BREAD AND BUTTER. 

Primrose, her head a little more erect than usual, her step firm, anda proud bright light in her eyes, went quickly down the littlerambling village street. The plain black dress she wore set off heryellow hair and extremely fair complexion to the best advantage. Shehad never looked sweeter or more independent than at this moment, when, for the first time in her young life, she was about to ask forhelp. 

Mr. Danesfield was not so busy this morning, and he saw his youngvisitor without delay. 

"Sit down, my dear, " he said; "I am very pleased to see you. You wantto ask for my advice? I will give it with the greatest pleasure. "

Primrose raised her head slowly. "I have been thinking over what yousaid yesterday, " she began. "As it is quite impossible for my sistersand me to live on our little income, even with the help of what youhave in the bank, we must try to help ourselves, must we not?"

"This is a brave thought, my dear--of course you must helpyourselves, and you will be none the worse for doing so. "

"We must earn money, " continued Primrose. "How can girls like us, whoare not educated--for I know we are not _really_ educated--add to ourincomes?"

Mr. Danesfield knit his brows. "Child, " he said, "you ask me apuzzler. I have no children of my own, and I know very little aboutyoung folk. Of one thing, however, I am quite certain; Daisy can earnno money, nor can Jasmine. You, Primrose, might with some difficultyget a little place as a nursery governess; you are a nice, presentable-looking girl, my dear. "

Primrose flushed, and the tears, wrung from great pain, came into hereyes. 

"There is just one thing, " she said, in a tremulous voice; "whateverhappens, we three girls won't be parted. On that point I have quitefirmly made up my mind. "

Mr. Danesfield again knit his brows, and this time he fidgeteduneasily on his chair. 

"Look here, Primrose, " he said: "I am an old bachelor, and I don'tknow half nor a quarter the ways in which a woman may earn her living. I have always been told that a woman is a creature of resources. Nowit is a well-known fact that an old bachelor has no resources. You goand put your question to Miss Martineau, my dear. Miss Martineau is akind soul--'pon my word, now, a very kind soul--and she has managedwonderfully to exist herself on absolutely nothing. You go to MissMartineau, Primrose, and get some secrets from her. Everything in mypower you may depend on my doing. I will exert my interest, and mypurse is at your service. "

Here Primrose got up. 

"Good-bye, Mr. Danesfield, " she said. "I know you mean to be verykind, but we three must keep together, and we must be independent. "Then she left the office, and went again down the street. 

Mr. Danesfield looked after her as she walked away. 

"Poor, proud young thing!" he said to himself. "Life will be atussle for her, or I am much mistaken. She is really growingwonderfully nice-looking, too. How she flushed up when I said shewas presentable--poor child! poor child! That mother of theirsmight have done something to provide for those girls--lady-likegirls--distinguished-looking. I expect the mother was a weak, poorsoul. Well, I hope Miss Martineau will think of something. I must calland see Miss Martineau; 'pon my word I don't know what to suggest forthe children to do. "

When Primrose arrived at Miss Martineau's, that lady was justdismissing the last of her morning pupils. She was standing on hersteps in her neat brown alpaca dress, over which she wore a largeblack apron of the same material with a bib to it. This apron hadcapacious pockets, which at the present moment were stuffed with herpupils' French exercises. On her head she had an antique-looking cap, made of black lace and rusty black velvet, and ornamented with queerlittle devices of colored beads. 

She was delighted to see Primrose, and took her at once into herlittle sitting-room. "Now my dear, you will stay and have dinner withme. You don't mind having no meat, dear. My middle-day meal to-dayconsists of a salad and a rice soufflée. You are welcome to share itwith me, Primrose. "

"Thank you, " said Primrose, "but I am not at all hungry. If you do notmind, I will talk to you while you dine. Miss Martineau, I have cometo ask your advice. "

Miss Martineau came up instantly and kissed the young girl on bothcheeks. 

"My love, I am delighted. It gives me the sincerest pleasure to givecounsel to the young and inexperienced. Have you come from Mrs. Ellsworthy, dearest?"

"Not at all, " answered Primrose. "Mrs. Ellsworthy has nothing to sayto me. She is only a friend, nothing more. Miss Martineau, we havediscovered that we cannot live on our little income. Please will youtell me how we can add to it, so that we three can keep together?"

"Keep together--impossible!" replied Miss Martineau. "There is nothingwhatever before you, Primrose, but to face the inevitable. Theinevitable means that you must break up your home--that you obtain, through the kind patronage of the Ellsworthys, a situation asgoverness, or companion, or something of that sort--and that thelittle girls, Jasmine and Daisy, are put into a good school for theorphan daughters of military men. The Ellsworthys will use theirinfluence toward this end. They are very kind--they have taken up yourcause warmly. Primrose, my dear, it sounds hard, but plain speaking isbest. You must be parted from your sisters. This is inevitable. Youhave got to face it. "

"It is not inevitable, " answered Primrose--then she paused, and herface turned very white. 

"It is not inevitable, " she repeated, "for this reason because neitheryou nor Mrs. Ellsworthy have the smallest control over my sisters ormyself. I asked for your advice, but if this is the best you can give, it is useless. Mrs. Ellsworthy never cared to know my mother, and sheis not going to part my mother's children now. Good-bye, MissMartineau--no, I am not hungry, I have a headache. Oh, I am notoffended--people mean to be kind, but there are things which onecannot bear. No, Miss Martineau, the inevitable course you and Mrs. Ellsworthy have been kind enough to sketch out, my sisters and I willcertainly not adopt. "

CHAPTER XII. 

THEY WOULD NOT BE PARTED. 

Primrose walked down the street, passing by the little cottage whichfor so many years had been her home. Her sisters did not expect her toreturn to dinner, and her heart was too full to allow her to go injust then. 

So they were to be parted--this was the advice of those who calledthemselves their friends. Primrose, Jasmine, and Daisy, her threeflowers, as mother had called them, were no longer to grow sweetly inone garden together. They were to be parted--Primrose was to go oneway, and the little ones another. Impulsive Jasmine would no longercry out her griefs on Primrose's neck, or tell her joys and griefs, her hopes and aspirations, to the calm and elder sister. Daisy--theirbaby, as Primrose called her--might be ill or sad, or lonely, and she, Primrose, would no longer be there to comfort her. 

Parted! No, they should not be parted--all their young lives they hadlived together, and whether they starved, or whether they feasted, they would live together still. Thank God, no one had any realcontrol over them--their very loneliness would now, therefore, betheir safety--they might sketch out their own career, and no one couldprevent them. 

Primrose said to herself--

"After all, I am glad I know the very worst. People mean to be kind;but, oh! how can they understand what we three girls are to oneanother?"

She walked quickly in her agitation, and passing the village green, came suddenly upon Poppy Jenkins, who was hurrying home to hermother's cottage. 

"Well, Miss Primrose, I'm off to-morrow, " said Poppy, dropping one ofher quick curtseys, and a more vivid red than usual coming into herbright cheeks. 

"Yes, Poppy, " answered Primrose; "I hope you will be very happy inLondon"--then a sudden thought occurring to her, she ran after theyoung girl and laid her hand on her shoulder. 

"Poppy, give me your London address--I may want it. "

"Oh law! Miss Primrose, do you think you'd be saving out of the thirtypounds regular income and coming up to London on a visit?"

"We may come to London, Poppy--I can't say, " answered Primrose in asad voice--"anyhow, I should like to have your address--may I haveit?"

"Surely, miss--aunt lives in a part they call central--she says therents are very high, but it's all done for the convenience of thebeautiful ladies who boards with her. Aunt's address is PenelopeMansion--Wright Street, off the Edgware Road. It's a beautifulsounding address, isn't it, Miss Primrose?"

Primrose smiled again--a smile, however, which made poor little Poppyfeel rather down-hearted, and then she continued her walk. 

"It is very difficult to know what to do, " she said to herself--"itmakes one feel quite old and careworn. If only that brother who waslost long ago was now living, how nice it would be for us girls. Iwonder if he is really dead--I suppose he is, or mamma would haveheard something about him. Twenty years ago since it happened--longerthan my whole life. Poor mother! poor, dear mother! what she must havesuffered! I understand now why her pretty sweet face looked so sad, and why her hair was grey before her time. What a pity my brother hasnot lived--he certainly would not wish us girls to be parted. "

Primrose walked on a little farther, then she retraced her steps andwent home. She found Jasmine and Daisy in a state of the greatestexcitement. Mrs. Ellsworthy had called, and had been nicer and sweeterand more charming than ever--she had brought Daisy a doll of the mostperfect description, and had presented the flower-loving Jasmine witha great bouquet of exotics, which looked almost out of place in thehumble little cottage. 

"And there is a long letter for you, Primrose, " continued Jasmine;"and she says she hopes you will read it very quickly, and that shemay come down to-morrow morning to talk it over with you. She saysthere is a plan in the letter, and that it is a delightful plan--Iwonder what it can be? Will you read the letter now, Primrose?--shallI break the seal and read it aloud to you?"

"No, " answered Primrose, almost shortly for her--"Mrs. Ellsworthy'sletter can keep, " and then she slipped the thick white envelope intoher pocket. 

"Why sister darling, how pale you look!--are you tired?"

"A little, " said Primrose--"I had no dinner--I should like a cup oftea. "

Jasmine flew out of the room to get it for her, and Daisy nestled upto her elder sister's side. 

"Primrose, " she whispered, "Jasmine and I read that letter in thegarden together. Oh! we were so surprised to know we had a little babybrother long ago. We went to Hannah and asked her about him, andHannah cried--I never saw Hannah cry so long and so hard. She said hewas the sweetest baby. Oh, how I wish we had him now!--he would bemuch, much nicer than my new doll. "

"But if he were with us now he would be a man, Eyebright--a big, braveman, able to help us poor girls. "

Daisy considered--

"I can only think of him as a baby, " she said. "Hannah said he waslost in London. How I wish we could go to London and find ourbrother!"

CHAPTER XIII. 

MRS. ELLSWORTHY'S LETTER. 

The girls had finished tea, and Hannah had removed all traces of theevening meal before Primrose would even glance at the thick letterwhich was addressed to her. She did so at last, at the earnestentreaties of her two sisters--for Daisy climbed on the sofa besideher, and put her arms round her neck, and coaxed her to read what dearMrs. Ellsworthy had written, and Jasmine took the letter and placed itin her lap, and seated herself on a footstool at her feet, and the twoyoung girls looked interested and excited, and their eyes were brightwith anticipation, and even some impatience. 

Primrose, on the contrary, appeared indifferent. She broke the seal ofthe thick letter languidly, and began to read its contents aloud, inan almost apathetic voice. 

This was what Mrs. Ellsworthy had written:

"MY DEAR PRIMROSE, "(You remember our compact that I was to call you Primrose. ) I had notcourage to say to you the other day all that was in my heart. My dearchild, it seems rather absurd to say it, but I felt afraid of you. Inthe eyes of the world I am considered a great lady--for I have riches, and my husband holds a good position--whereas you, Primrose, would beconsidered by that same world nothing but a simple village maid. Nevertheless, the innocent and unsophisticated girl contrived to keepthe woman of the world at a distance, and to let her see very plainlythat she thought her curious questions impertinent. When I read thisexpression of opinion so plainly in your eyes, Primrose, I feltafraid, and questioned no further. My dear, it is a fact that cowardsalways resort to pen and ink when they want to express a frankopinion. I am now going to say on paper what I feared to put into somany words the other night. First of all, you are mistaken about me. Iam not what you think me. 

"Oh, yes! I know very well what that proud little heart of yours tellsyou about me. It says, 'She is great and rich, and she is curiousabout us girls, and she wants to patronize us--'"

Here Primrose had to put down her letter, for she was interrupted byan exclamation from Daisy--

"But we _don't_ think like that of our darling, pretty Mrs. Ellsworthy--do we, Jasmine?"

"Go on reading, Primrose, " said Jasmine. 

Primrose continued--

"You are all wrong about me, my dear, dear girls, and yet, after ameasure, you are right; for in a certain sense I _am_ curious aboutyou; and most undoubtedly I want to help you. I know already a certainportion of your story, and already I can partly read your characters. The part of your story I know is this: You are ladies by birth--youare very ignorant of the world--and you have not at all sufficientmoney to live on. Your characters are as follows:

"Primrose, I am not at all afraid of you on paper. You, Primrose, areproud and independent. You are also sadly obstinate, and it isextremely probable that you will take your own way, which I can seebeforehand will not be a wise one. "

"Oh! oh! oh!" came interruption No. 2 to the reading of the letter, and Jasmine's arms were flung tightly round Primrose's neck. 

"How can she talk of you like that? How little she knows you, my'queen of roses. '"

Primrose smiled, kissed Jasmine between her eyebrows and went onreading. 

"Jasmine's character, " continued Mrs. Ellsworthy in her letter, "is asyet unformed. She has high aspirations and generous impulses--if sheis well managed, and if you don't spoil her, Primrose, she willprobably develop into a very noble woman. I love Jasmine very dearlyalready. 

"As to your little sister, she is as fresh, and innocent, and daintyas her name; but take warning, Primrose, she is not over strong--thereis a look about the little one which makes me dread the thought of herencountering any of the roughnesses of life. 

"Now, my dear girl, I have read my little bit of a lecture; you areprobably extremely angry with me, but I don't care. I now come to thepractical part of my letter; I am desirous to help you three, and Iwant to help you in the way most suited to your individual characters. The sad fact cannot be gain-said--you must give up your home--you mustearn your livings. May I help you to find a way to put bread into yourmouths? I have thought it all out, and I think I know a plan. If youwill agree to it, you may keep your independence, Primrose; Jasminemay be developed into the kind of woman God meant her to become; andlittle Daisy need not fear the rude blasts of adverse fate. "

Here Daisy, who only partly understood the letter, burst into tears, and Primrose, taking her in her arms, allowed the closely writtensheets to fall on the floor. 

"I know what it means, " she exclaimed, speaking with sudden fire andpassion; "the same thing has been said to me by two different peoplealready to-day. Mr. Danesfield said it after his fashion, MissMartineau after hers, and now Mrs. Ellsworthy repeats the words. Oh, yes, I know what it means--separation--I will _never_ consent to it!"

Jasmine had been kneeling on the floor and picking up the scatteredsheets of Mrs. Ellsworthy's letter; she now raised her eyes in utterastonishment to her elder sister's face. Primrose was not accustomedto giving utterance to strong feelings. Primrose's words were wont tobe calm and somewhat measured. Jasmine knew that she herself flew intotempests of grief, or anger, or excitement--she was always beingchided for not restraining her feelings--she was always being gentlylectured for using too strong expressions. What did Primrose mean bythrowing down this kind though somewhat mysterious, letter, and bymaking use of so ghastly a word as "separation?" Who was going todivide them? Certainly not kind Mrs. Ellsworthy. 

"Had we not better hear what she says, even though you don't seemquite to like her, Primrose?" asked Jasmine, holding up the sheets. 

"There are two sheets more, quite full of writing--shall I read themaloud to you and Daisy?"

But Primrose had not got over the excitement which was growing withinher all day; she took the letter out of Jasmine's hands, folded it, and returned it to its envelope. 

"I must speak, " she said; "we can finish that letter afterwards--theletter does not greatly matter, after all. Do you know, Jasmine, anddo you know, Daisy, that these people who all mean to be so kind, andwho, I suppose, really feel good-natured towards us, are trying totake our lives into their own hands? They are not our guardians, butthey want to rule us--they say we cannot live on our income, and theywill show us how we are to live. Mr. Danesfield will give money, ifneeded; Miss Martineau will give us heaps and oceans of advice; andMrs. Ellsworthy will give patronage, and perhaps money too. They meanto be kind, as I said, and they think they ought to guide our lives. Of course, they consider us very young and very ignorant, and so theysay they will provide for me in one way, and Jasmine in another, andDaisy in another. Now what I say is this; let us choose our own lives, Jasmine and Daisy; don't let us do anything rude to our friends, for Iknow they are our friends, but let us be firm and keep together. Thesepeople want to divide us; I say, let us keep together. "

"Of course, " said Jasmine; "is that really what the lettermeans--separation? Here, give it to me--" She snatched it from hersister, and flung it with energy to the other end of the apartment. Daisy nestled her soft little face up close to her eldestsister's--Daisy was still feeling things incomprehensible, and wasalso a little frightened. 

"Go on, " continued Jasmine, "go on talking, Primrose--we are quitewith you, Daisy and I--what nonsense the people must have in theirheads if they think we three are going to part!"

"But we are in a very painful and difficult position, " continuedPrimrose. "We have certainly got to earn our bread, and we don't atall know how to earn it. We are not educated enough to go anywhere asgovernesses, although Miss Martineau did say that I might perhaps geta little place in the nursery; but in any case people would not wantthree governesses in one family, and, of course, Daisy is too young toearn anything for many a long day. Jasmine, I have been thinking overall this most seriously--I have been thinking over it for some hours, and it seems to me there is nothing at all for us to do but to go toLondon. "

"Where Poppy is going?" interrupted Jasmine; "delicious--lovely--mydream of dreams! Go on, Primrose darling; I could listen to you allnight. "

"But we mustn't go only for pleasure, " continued Primrose; "indeed, wemust not go at all for pleasure. We must go to work hard, and tolearn, so that bye-and-bye we may be really able to supportourselves. Now, there is only one way in which we can do that. We musttake that two hundred pounds which Mr. Danesfield has in the bank, andwe must live on it while we are being educated. We can go to a cheappart of London, and find poor lodgings--we won't mind how poor theyare, if only they are very clean, with white curtains, and dimityround the beds. We'll be quite happy there, and we'll make our twohundred pounds go very far. With great care, and with our thirtypounds a year, it might last for four or five years, and by that timeDaisy will have grown big, and you, Jasmine, will have grown up, and--and--perhaps you will have found a magazine to take your poems. "

"Oh! oh! I never heard of anything so delicious!" exclaimed Jasmine. "Long before the five years are out I'll be on the pinnacle of fame. London will inspire me; oh, it is the home of beauty and delight!Where is Mrs. Ellsworthy's letter?--we will never finish it? I amgoing to burn it on the spot rather than allow any other idea to beput into your head, Primrose?"

Primrose smiled again, and before she could prevent her, her impetuoussister had torn Mrs. Ellsworthy's letter into ribbons, and had setfire to it in the empty grate. 

"We must not be too sanguine about London, " she said; "only it doesseem the only independent thing to do. Then, too, there is that letterof dear mamma's and all that sad account of the little baby brotherwho was lost so long ago. Hannah says that he was lost in London--hemust be a man now; perhaps we shall meet him in London. It certainlydoes seem as if it were right for us to go. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

QUITE CONTRARY. 

"I have done it, my dear Joseph, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I went to seethe children, and I wrote to that little proud princess Primrose. Itwill be really very nice if they all come here. We have such heaps andheaps of money, more than we know what to do with; money becomesuninteresting when you have so much. I think I have tried most of thepleasures that money can buy. I have heaps of dresses, and quantitiesof jewels, and my lovely country home, and my season in town, but whatI have never yet had, and what I have earnestly longed for, was adaughter. A boy, after all, has to go to school, and to fight his wayin the world--our boy is at school, and a very good place for him--buta woman wants a girl of her own to quite satisfy her heart. 

"Now it seems to me that I may have three girls. We must keep up thefiction of Primrose being useful to you in your library, Joseph--youmust give her letters to write, and you must be very patient with herwhen she makes mistakes, for the dear child has not been educated, and will probably make the worst of secretaries. Never mind, you musttry to appear delighted, and to seem as if you never could have got onuntil Primrose Mainwaring came to help you. 

"Then the little ones--of course they are coming under the suppositionthat they are only to stay until I have found them berths in one ofthose horrid charity schools for the orphan daughters of militarymen--but I promise you those berths shall be hard to find. The threewill insensibly consider themselves our adopted children. Oh, what adelightful plan it is! and how picturesque I shall feel with my girls!Joseph, did you ever see a brighter or more bewitching little soulthan our Jasmine?"

"Our Jasmine?" repeated Mr. Ellsworthy; "she is by no means ours yet, my love. Well, I trust your plan will succeed--they are nice girls, and I like to feel I am doing a kindness to poor Mainwaring'sdaughters. I shall be very pleased indeed if they make your life anyhappier, Kate. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy stooped down and kissed her husband's brow--she wasall impatience for the morning to arrive, for surely early then wouldcome an answer to the letter she had written. 

But Mrs. Ellsworthy was doomed to disappointment. The next day broughtno answer from the Mainwaring girls. The good little lady bore hersuspense as best she could until noon, then she ordered her carriageand drove into the village. 

Jasmine herself opened the cottage door for her. Jasmine was lookingexcited, and there were red rings round her eyes as if she had beencrying, and yet at the same time those bright eyes of hers wereshining, and her lips were quivering between smiles and tears. 

"Oh, you have come!" she exclaimed; "Primrose is in the village--shehas gone to Mr. Danesfield about our money. Please come into thedrawing-room. We are rather upset, for we are beginning to pack, andHannah is washing out the anti-macassars and the white muslincurtains, for we think the muslin curtains will look so nice in ourcheap lodgings. We are very busy, awfully busy, but do come in and sitdown. Eyebright, here is Mrs. Ellsworthy. Mrs. Ellsworthy, isn'tEyebright a silly?--she is quite fretting because she won't see thoselast seeds of hers come up in the garden. Now, if she was asked toleave the Pink I would say nothing, but of course the Pink comes too. "

"Yes, dear, and Daisy shall have plenty of garden ground for freshseeds. Oh! my dear children, " continued Mrs. Ellsworthy, "I shall beso delighted to welcome you all to Shortlands, only I think you mighthave replied to my letter. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy was by this time seated in a low arm-chair by thewindow, and Jasmine was standing before her, while Daisy sat demurelyon the floor, and folded up the anti-macassars. 

"We might have answered your letter?" repeated Jasmine. "Well now, doyou know, to be quite frank and open, your letter was a little bit ofa lecture. You did give it to darling old Primrose, and somehow orother you made Daisy cry. You spoke about a plan, and you said it wasa delightful plan, but--but before we read that part of your letterPrimrose thought of another plan of her own, and _it_ was soexquisite, so perfect, that we tore up your plan for fear we should betempted by it. We don't know your plan, Mrs. Ellsworthy, and we don'twant it, for we have made our own, and ours is--yes, ours is lovely!"

Mrs. Ellsworthy had an expressive face, and while Jasmine was talkingit changed and grew anxious; her husband's words, "She is not ourJasmine yet, " returned to her. Like many rich and pretty women, shewas unaccustomed to opposition, and when it came it but whetted herdesire, and made her also feel irritable. 

"It is rude to tear up the letters of kind friends, " she said. "I madea proposal which would have been in every way suitable to you girls, and you did not even trouble yourselves to read it. No, my loves, I amnot angry. Daisy, come and give me a kiss; Jasmine, hold my hand. Nowshall I tell you the little plan which you would not read about lastnight?"

"Oh, we would not be rude to you for the world, " said Jasmine. "Daisy, come here, and give Mrs. Ellsworthy one of your sweetest kisses. Ofcourse I will hold your hand--I love you, and so does Daisy, and sodoes--"

"No, so does _not_ Primrose, " answered Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose isthe opposing element--still I trust I may conquer her. Now, mychildren, may I tell the plan?"

"Oh yes, do tell us, " they both answered; but Jasmine added, "It willnot be of the slightest use, for we have made our own. "

"Well, dear, plans of girls as young as you are made to be altered. Now listen to my scheme. 

"Mr. Ellsworthy writes for the papers and for one or two magazines. Hehas scientific tastes, and writing in this way gives interest to hislife; but his eyes are not very strong, and he has for some time beenwishing for some nice girl to whom he can dictate his thoughts. Itseems to him, and to me too, that Primrose is just the sort of girl hewants, and if she will come and live with us at Shortlands, he willpay her something for giving him a couple of her hours daily--thus, you see, she will be earning her living and will be quite independent. You and Daisy, Jasmine, are to come to us on a visit, until we canfind a school where, for your father's sake, your education may befinished. "

"You mean a school for the orphan daughters of army men, " saidJasmine, "I know. Well, thank you very much, but I'm afraid your planwon't answer. Neither Daisy nor I would at all like to go to a schoolfor orphans. We don't fancy the idea of school, and dear mamma oncesaid that she would never allow her girls to be taught at school, so, of course, that point is settled. Then you know we could not alwaysremain with you on a visit, for we are no relations of yours--younever heard of us at all until a few days ago, although we have livedhere most of our lives. Of course you don't mean to keep us always ona visit, so it would be very silly to begin a thing which could not goon. Then about Primrose--may I be quite honest with you aboutPrimrose?"

"Oh yes, my dear. "

"Well now, she doesn't write well--not really--her hand moves soslowly, and I have seen some spelling mistakes now and then in herletters--I fly over the page myself, but then I only can read my ownwriting. I am greatly afraid that poor Mr. Ellsworthy would findPrimrose a bad secretary. No, no, no; ours is a much, much betterplan. You see, Mrs. Ellsworthy, you must not be angry with us--we loveyou very much--we are greatly obliged to you, but we have quite madeup our minds--we will not be separated. Ah! here comes Primrose. Primrose, darling, here is Mrs. Ellsworthy--she is just going tolisten to our plan--she has told us hers, and I have been explainingto her that it will not answer, for Daisy and I are determined not togo to school, and you know, Primrose, you are really stupid with yourpen. "

"How do you do, Mrs. Ellsworthy?" said Primrose--she came in lookingfagged and tired, and with a worried expression between her eyebrows. "Mrs. Ellsworthy, " she said, "I am most grateful to you for being sokind to us. I know you won't approve at all of our plan--you willagree with Mr. Danesfield, who said he thought we had taken leave ofour senses, but I think we have made up our minds, and as we have noguardian, there is no one to prevent us doing as we please. "

"Oh, Primrose, how sad you look!" said Jasmine. "Has Mr. Danesfieldbeen disagreeable to you? Well, I know our darling Mrs. Ellsworthywon't. Tell her our plan quickly. Primrose, she says you don't loveher--tell her you do love her. Oh, she is sweet and dear andkind--tell her our plan--she won't throw cold water on what we wish todo--she won't think it wrong that we three girls should wish to keeptogether. "

"Our plan is this, " said Primrose, "I have asked Mr. Danesfield togive us what money he has of ours, and then we three are going to sellour furniture here, and to give up the cottage, and say good-bye todear Hannah, and we are going to London. In London we shall learn. Iam going to have lessons in painting, and Jasmine shall study Englishcomposition, and she shall be taught how to write properly; and Daisy, too, must be taught, and we will do that with our money which is nowin the bank, and when it is spent we shall be able to supportourselves. After all, it is a very simple plan, and the best thingabout it is that it will keep us together. "

When Primrose began to talk Mrs. Ellsworthy threw down her hands inher lap with a gesture of great impatience. Now she asked in a shortdry voice, "May I ask what money you have in the bank?"

"Yes, certainly--we have two hundred pounds--a little of that must bespent in paying one or two small accounts, but then we shall have themoney as well from the sale of our furniture. Yes, I think we shallhave quite two hundred pounds to take to London. "

"And we are going to be very economical, " interposed Jasmine. "We aregoing at first for a couple of nights to a boarding-house for ladiesonly. It is called Penelope Mansion, and is in a street off theEdgware Road--we have a friend, she is only a village girl, but wecall her our friend--her name is Poppy Jenkins, who has just gone toPenelope Mansion to help her aunt, who is the owner of theboarding-house. While we are there we will see the sights, for ofcourse that must be part of our education. We will go to WestminsterAbbey to be solemnized, and we will go to the Tower to perfect ourknowledge of the tragical part of English history, and we must takeDaisy to the Zoo, for she has always longed to see a lot of monkeysall together. I don't think we'll have any time for looking in at theshop windows, for we shall be very busy, and very, very earnest, butthese places we must see. I daresay Poppy and her aunt, and some ofthe nice ladies in the boarding-house, will go with us. When Poppy hasdusted up and put things straight in the morning, of course she'llhave lots and lots of time. Oh, it does seem such an easy, sensibleplan. "

"My poor, poor children!" exclaimed Mrs. Ellsworthy, "my poor, deluded, silly, obstinate children!" and then the good little womanburst into tears. 

CHAPTER XV. 

IN SPITE OF OPPOSITION. 

But although Mrs. Ellsworthy wept and lamented, although she triedboth persuasions and scoldings, and finally left the cottage in astate of deep offence, vowing within herself that she would nevertrouble her head again over the affairs of such silly and obstinategirls, she could not in the least shake Primrose's quiet resolve. 

Primrose said over and over again: "Two things are absolutelyindispensable--we must be independent, and we must keep together. Ican think of no better plan than this--it may fail, but we can but tryit--we are certainly going to try it. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy kept up her offence for twenty-four hours, then shebegan to soften, and to agree with her husband, whose solitary remarkwas, "My dear, you cannot coerce the children, and upon my word it's aplucky notion, and if those girls are brave enough to carry it outthey must have real stuff in them. "

"They may have plenty of stuff, and the plan may be as plucky as youlike, Joseph, " replied his excitable little wife. "I am quite willingto admire it in the abstract, but I am quite determined, if I have anyinfluence whatever, to prevent them carrying it through. "

Then she went off to Miss Martineau, invading the schoolmistress inthe sacred hour when she was engaged with her pupils. Mrs. Ellsworthycarried Miss Martineau away from her school, and shutting the door ofthat lady's little parlor, clasped the governess's thin hands, andpoured her troubles into her ears. 

"Joseph calls it plucky, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy at the end of hernarrative. 

But Miss Martineau's face was perfectly aghast. 

"Plucky!" she ejaculated. "Dear Mrs. Ellsworthy, pardon me, but yourhusband is a man--what can a man know about the intricate workingswhich go on within the breast of a perverse girl? Plucky!--I call itwicked--I call it wanting in all decorum, in all right sense. PrimroseMainwaring has disappointed me deeply; she showed undue temper when Ispoke to her here the other day--oh yes, this thing must be preventedby main force, if necessary. "

Miss Martineau's pupils could not imagine what was the matter with herthat morning. She was known to be a most strict disciplinarian, shewas reported to have the sharpest eyes, and the quickest ears; herpupils believed that nothing ever could pass Miss Martineau'sobservation; nevertheless, after Mrs. Ellsworthy's visit she was_distrait_, she was indifferent to mistakes, and she allowed hernaughtiest and most troublesome scholar to gabble through her Frenchtranslation without once correcting her. School over, Miss Martineaudiscovered that she had no appetite for her dinner; she left quite anice little repast, cooked in French style, untasted on the table, andhurrying up to her bedroom, put on her mantle and poke bonnet and wentout. She had made up her mind to visit the Mainwarings, and toexpostulate with these headstrong and naughty girls on their daringscheme. "Wicked, I call it, " she ejaculated many times under herbreath!--"a wicked scheme, wicked, and a tempting of Providence. Oh, my poor orphan children, I must do my utmost to prevent your havingyour own perverse way in this matter!"

She arrived at Woodbine Cottage to find the neat little house alreadyin sad confusion. Hannah favored her with an expressive look, and agrave shaking of her head. 

"I don't know if they'll see you, " she said--"they won't see you if itis on a lecturing errand you've come, ma'am. Their minds is made up, ma'am, and obstinate is no word for them. Dear Miss Martineau, youmeans well, and you has known them most of their lives, poor darlings, so sit you down in the hall, and I'll see if I can get them to have aword with you. "

Jasmine, however, had heard her old governess's voice, and now runningout, looking extremely untidy but very pretty, she exclaimed in hereager tones--

"Now, you dear Miss Martineau, say you're not--do say you're not!"

"Not what, my dear?" asked the governess, who really felt quite angrywith Jasmine at this moment. "If you mean that I am not displeased--Iam displeased; and if you mean that I am not to oppose you, my dear, Ishould not be doing my solemn duty, the duty which I owe to your poordead mother, if I did not oppose you to the very uttermost. My dear, Mrs. Ellsworthy has told me all about your mad scheme; my poor child, it cannot be allowed for a moment. "

"Come into the drawing-room and hear what Primrose has to say, "answered Jasmine, in quite a meek and unruffled voice. "Primrose isvery busy, for she is dusting and packing all our books and littleknick-knacks. Do you know, Miss Martineau, that just when I heard yourring at the hall-door I came across a pincushion which you gave meages and ages ago. You gave it to me when I could say, _Le thé estchaud_ with a Parisian accent. It was such a pretty pincushion madeof pink silk, and dotted over with steel beads to look like pins. Justwhen you were ringing the bell I had it in my hand, and I felt so softand loving towards you, and of course I had to run out to see you, and--; Primrose, dearest, here is Miss Martineau. She is dreadfullyopposed, and she says she won't let us go. "

Primrose was bending over a battered old trunk which had been hauleddown from the lumber-room. She was filling it with books, and her fairface was slightly flushed, and her eyes were brighter than usual. 

"How do you do, Miss Martineau?" she said, rising to her feet. "It isvery kind of you to call. I feel sure you are annoyed, and think usgirls rather silly, but I'm afraid we must do what we think rightourselves in this matter. We have taken our first steps, and now thatwe have quite and absolutely made up our minds, mean to leave Roseburyas quickly as possible. It is very kind of you to be interested in us, and I am sorry that I spoke bitterly the other day, but the plan whichwas to divide us girls was of course impossible, and we could notlisten to it for a moment. We have made our own little scheme, andperhaps we shall not fail. Daisy, darling, hand me dear old 'Sandfordand Merton, ' I have just got a nice corner for it here. "

Primrose went down again on her knees, and serenely continued herpacking, while Miss Martineau, standing over her, then and there gaveway to a burst of passion. 

She was well aware that she lost ground with her pupils by notcontrolling her temper, but as she said afterwards, she really couldnot help herself. Such coolness, such perversity, such a headstrongflying in the face of their elders, she had never encountered in threeyoung girls before. 

Poor Daisy quite sobbed, and even Jasmine felt a little frightened atMiss Martineau's bitter and angry words; but no language she coulduse, no threats of the direst failure she could utter, had power toshake Primrose's resolve. 

"We have no guardian, and we can go if we please, and we have reallymade up our minds to go, " replied that perverse young lady. 

As a last resource Mr. Danesfield was appealed to, but he, being anold bachelor and not quite at home with girls, although in his hearthe was very fond of them, declined to interfere. 

"I gave Primrose Mainwaring some uncalled-for advice when she came tosee me the other morning, " he said. "She is perfectly at liberty tochoose her own life, and I, for one, am not going to add to hertroubles by needlessly opposing her. Very likely the girls will get onin London--they are spirited girls, and they may do better forthemselves by struggling for independence than by living with theEllsworthys. I always did maintain that work hurts no one. "

So Primrose carried out her little plans, and made all arrangements, and her friends, when they found she would not yield, came round her, and began to counsel her as to the best place to go to. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy was, after all, the first to forgive the girls. Shefelt very indignant, and stayed away for more than a week; but oneevening, when the day's packing was over, and the three, rather tiredbut quite cheerful and full of hope, were sitting down to their tea, her carriage was seen to draw up to the door, and the little lady, bustling and good-natured as ever, entered the drawing-room. 

"My dears, " she said, holding out a hand each to Primrose and Daisy, but imprinting a kiss on her favorite Jasmine's brow, "my dears--Oh, of course, I am still very angry! I see, too, that you are at thathorrid packing; but if you must go, there is a Mrs. Moore--such a goodsoul, a widow, and quite a lady--indeed, I may say highly connected. She lives in Kensington, and I have written to her. My dears, shewould be charmed to take you all into her family. She would give youcomforts--oh! I don't mean luxuries, but the necessary comforts thatyoung girls who are using their brains require. She would feed youwell, and chaperone you when you went out, and, in short, see to youall round. I know her house so well. It is very pretty--indeed, charming--and she would take you in for a pound a week between you. She would give you board and lodging, and all you require, for a pounda week. I hope, my dear Primrose, you don't consider that too dear. Itis, I believe"--here Mrs. Ellsworthy coughed slightly--"consideredcheap for Kensington. "

This torrent of words, poured forth with rapidity and yet withdistinctness, rather astonished the girls. They were afraid they hadlost Mrs. Ellsworthy for their friend, and they, every one of them, hailed this overture of kindness with delight. Innocent Primrose nevereven suspected that a pound a week for the lodging and maintenance ofthree girls was at all unusually cheap. She little guessed that Mrs. Ellsworthy had written to her special friend, Mrs. Moore, telling herthe girls' story, begging of her to give them a home, to provide themwith every comfort, and even luxury, and asking her to look to her, Mrs. Ellsworthy, for the necessary payment. 

Jasmine began to dance about, and to say, softly--

"Oh! this is too delightful! You darling Mrs. Ellsworthy, you arebeginning to approve of our scheme. Oh, yes; I know you are, althoughyou were too proud to say so. Now, is it not a little bit wrong of youto be proud after the way you lectured Primrose? Well, Primrose, shallwe go to Mrs. Moore? I don't know anything about Kensington, but Isuppose it is as good as any other place. I don't suppose, either, apound a week is too much for the three of us. Shall we go to Mrs. Moore, Primrose?"

Daisy also joined her voice in favor of going to Mrs. Ellsworthy'sfriend, and after all, but for that obstinate young person Primrose, the good little lady might have had her way, but Primrose, althoughshe was quite ignorant of fashionable localities or of any Londonexpenses, was very firm, very firm indeed, when she made up her mind. 

"It is most kind of you to call and say all this to us, " she answered. "Oh, yes, we would come if we had not quite decided on an altogetherdifferent plan. That being the case we cannot go to Mrs. Moore--thankyou so much. "

When Jasmine heard her sister speak her face first fell and thenbrightened up considerably. "How stupid of me to forget!" she said. "Oh, yes, we have made a lovely plan, and of course we could not go toanybody whom anybody knew. Oh, no, of course not. I cannot think how Icame to forget. "

Again Mrs. Ellsworthy tried persuasion and even entreaty, but againshe had to own herself vanquished by that most obstinate girlPrimrose. "I really cannot make out why I care for them all, " she saidto herself as she drove away. "I do care for them, poor children! Iwould do anything to help them, but I am simply not allowed. Well, Primrose, no doubt you would be a great trial to me if you were mydaughter; I could never bear obstinate characters, and yet to acertain extent I admire you. "

Miss Martineau also made up her mind to forgive these naughty girls, and to give them the benefit of her most sapient counsel. She toowrote a private letter to a London friend, and arrived at WoodbineCottage primed with what she considered valuable information. "Now, mydears, you must go to Shepherd's Bush--that is the place, and the onlyplace where you can live within your means. My friend ConstantiaWarren has rooms there, and she says--I have written to her, myloves--she says if you will let her accompany you in your search shemay be able to secure you a clean, respectable bedroom in a fairlygood locality. Constantia is an excellent woman; she is fifty, andplain in her tastes, and has no nonsense about her. She has promisedme, for my sake, to accompany you to church in the evenings, and tosee that you wear your veils down when you go out, and that you areback in your bedroom--you can't afford a sitting-room, so don't thinkof it--that you are back in your bedroom by five o'clock in theevening, as all girls who have any idea of what is correct and properare of course in by that hour in London. Now, my dears, Constantiawill be a sort of protectress to you three, and I had better write toher at once. My dears, it is a relief to me to know you will be nearConstantia, for London is a pit--a pit, and a snare. "

Miss Martineau had talked herself quite out of breath, and lookedquite pleading, but the same obstacle which had prevented the girls'acceding to Mrs. Ellsworthy's request now debarred their taking uptheir quarters near Constantia Warren. 

They spoke of their plans, but would not tell what they were, and MissMartineau again went away offended. 

"There is no secret in the matter, " she said, when talking over theaffair with Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose tries to make a mystery, andJasmine likes to look mysterious, but there is not the smallest doubtthat all the girls really want is to have their own way, and to bebeholden to none of us. "

"Nevertheless, I love them, and shall always love them, " answered Mrs. Ellsworthy. 

"Oh, for the matter of that, so will I always love them, Mrs. Ellsworthy. It seems to me they want a lot of pity, poor misguidedyoung things!"

Primrose, Jasmine and Daisy all this time felt wonderfully serene. They were very sorry to hurt their friends, but it is quite true thatthey did want to have their own way. They had made distinct plans, butthey must go to London to carry them out. They thought their wisestcourse was to go up to Penelope Mansion for a few days, and make theirfinal arrangements from there. 

"I'd be very lonely in London if I wasn't near Poppy, " said Jasmine;and Primrose too said that she thought their wisest course was to goup to Penelope Mansion, and make their plans from there. 

Accordingly, one afternoon, when Poppy Jenkins had been three weeks inher new place, she received a letter from Primrose Mainwaring, towhich she sent the following reply. Poppy's spelling need not becopied, but her language ran as follows:--

 Penelope Mansion, Wright street, off the Edgware Road, _July 22. _

HONORED Miss, --

"Your letter was that gratifying. I am so glad you have put by yoursavings, and are coming to visit this vast Babylon. Miss Primrose, itwill do me a sight of good to see your face, and the face of MissJasmine, and the face of Miss Daisy. The ladies here, miss--for I mustown to the truth--are not as beautiful as was to be expected. Neitherin their visages nor in their manners are they beautiful. Sharp's theword from morn till night here, and many a time I cry. I hasn't had nomoment yet to visit the sights, for aunt's hands are very full, andshe looks most natural to me to assist her, which I do, as in dutybound. I'm told that there isn't much of the real London to be seenfrom Penelope Mansion, so I live in hopes that it is as beautiful aswe pictured it beyond these dull walls. Miss, I has spoken to my aunt, and she will be very pleased to receive you three, and will put you ina bedroom to the front of the house. You'll be fretted by the roarfrom the continuous multitude which passes these windows all day andall night, but otherwise the room is cheerful, although somewhat hot. Miss Primrose, I'll give you all such a welcome. 

 "Your humble and most devoted friend, "POPPY JENKINS. "

This letter was received by the girls while they were eating theirbreakfast. Primrose read it aloud to her sisters, and the effect ofPoppy's words was certainly not enlivening. Jasmine was the first torecover her spirits. 

"Never mind, " she said; "Poppy feels a little dull and it is more thanever our duty to go up to London, and try and cheer her. Poor Poppy!it is very wrong of her aunt not to let her go out to see the sights, and you see, Primrose, she really knows no part of London yet, exceptPenelope Mansion. Poor Poppy! how she did long to go to see thewonderful city; but she was a little frivolous, and seemed only towant to look at the shop windows and to examine the newest fashions. _We_ go to this grand, great London in a different spirit--we godetermined to conquer, don't we, Queen Rose?"

"We go to do what seems to be our duty, " answered Primrose, solemnly. "Oh, Jasmine! I hope we are doing right--I hope, I pray that God mayhelp us. "

Then a letter was written to Poppy, in which the noisy room wassecured for the following Thursday, and as this was Monday, the girlswere too busy packing to give many mere thoughts to poor Poppy'ssomewhat melancholy epistle. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PENELOPE MANSION. 

The last time in the funny little old-fashioned garden, the lastloving look at Jasmine's carnations, the last eager chase of the Pinkacross the little grass-plot, the last farewell said to the room wheremother had died, to the cottage where Daisy was born, the final hugfrom all three to dear old Hannah who vowed and declared that followthem to London she would, and stay in Devonshire any longer she wouldnot, and the girls had left Woodbine Cottage. 

Notwithstanding all their obstinacy, and their determination to havetheir own way, quite a bevy of friends accompanied them to the railwaystation--Miss Martineau was there, looking prim and starched, but withred rims round her eyes, and her lips only stern because they were sofirmly shut, and because she was so determined not to show anyemotion--Mrs. Jenkins, Poppy's mother, was also present; she wassending up a great bouquet of wild flowers and some eggs and butter toPoppy; and a lame boy, whom Jasmine had always been kind to, camehobbling on to the platform to bid the young ladies good-bye; and Mr. Danesfield drove up on his trap at the last moment in a violent hurry, and pushed an envelope, which he said contained a businesscommunication, into Primrose's hand. Last of all, just at the veryend, Mrs. Ellsworthy arrived panting on the scene; a footman followedher, also hurrying and panting, and he put into the railway carriage agreat basket containing hot-house flowers, and grapes, and peaches, and then Mrs. Ellsworthy kissed the girls, giving Primrose and Daisy ahurried salute, but letting her lips linger for a moment on Jasmine'sround cheek. During that brief moment two tears dropped from the kindlittle lady's eyes. 

It was in this manner that the girls went away. 

They arrived in London in the evening, and after a surprisinglysuccessful search for their luggage at Waterloo, managing not to loseanything, got into a cab, and drove to Penelope Mansion. 

Poppy's aunt boasted of the pleasing name of Flint, and when the girlsdrove up with their cab piled with luggage to the door of the mansion, Mrs. Flint herself came out to welcome them. 

Jasmine, whose excitable temperament had been going through manychanges during the journey to town, had now worked herself up into anardent desire to see Poppy--she jumped out of the cab first of all, and, running up the steps of Penelope Mansion, said eagerly--

"Oh, if you please, Mrs. Flint--I know, of course, you are Mrs. Flint--may I run down to the kitchen, and find Poppy?"

"My niece will come to you presently, Miss Mainwaring, " answered Mrs. Flint. 

Somehow Mrs. Flint's calm and carefully modulated voice had an instanteffect in subduing Jasmine. The mistress of Penelope Mansion resembledperhaps more a cushion than a flint--she was fat, round, and short, had a good-humored and unruffled face, and a voice which was alwayspitched in one key. 

"We call my niece Sarah in these premises, " she said; "Poppy signifiesnothing whatever but a weed, untidy, straggling, the worry of thefarmers. Sarah will see to your comforts presently, young ladies. Atthe present moment tea is on the table. We tea at six o'clockprecisely--we sup at nine. Will you like to go upstairs and wash yourhands, or will you come at once with me, and partake with the otherinmates of the meal which is now going forward?"

"I don't like her, but she seems to speak very correct English, "whispered Jasmine to her sister: "I wonder, does everybody in thegreat city speak like that? I suppose she'll do as a study in style. I must study style, mustn't I, if I'm to make money by writing?"

This speech was tumbled into Primrose's ear with wonderful rapidity, while Mrs. Flint stood gently by, looking most contented anduninterested. 

"Hush, Jasmine!" whispered Primrose. "Daisy darling, hold my hand. Thank you very much, Mrs. Flint; we will have some tea now, if youplease, and then go at once to our room. "

"Does Poppy--I mean Sarah--wait at the tea-table?" inquired Jasmine, as their hostess led the way up a flight of stairs, and down apassage. "I hope she does--I want to see her so badly. "

"Sarah's duties at the present moment are in the kitchen, " respondedMrs. Flint, with some graciousness. "Now, young ladies, let me precedeyou, and introduce you to my guests. Miss Mainwaring, Miss Jasmine andMiss Daisy Mainwaring--Mrs. Mortlock, Mrs. Dredge, Miss Slowcum. Youngladies, will you seat yourselves at the table?"

Mrs. Flint moved to her place at the head of the board; the threegirls dropped into seats, and were stared broadly at by Miss Slowcumand Mrs. Mortlock. Mrs. Dredge, however, did not stare, but stretchingout one rather plump white hand, took Daisy's within her own and gaveit a little squeeze. 

"Tired, pretty little dear!" she said; "tired and cold. Ah, I know allabout it. "

"No, she's not cold, she's hot, " responded Jasmine; "this is thehottest, closest room I've ever been in. You are Mrs. Dredge, are younot? Please, Mrs. Dredge, can you tell me how near we are to the realglories of the city from here?"

"I don't know, my dear--I fancy a very long way, " answered Mrs. Dredge, with a sigh--this sigh was instantly taken up by Mrs. Mortlockand Miss Slowcum, and Miss Slowcum remarked that the situation mightcertainly be considered the worst in London. 

"Ha, ha!" said Mrs. Mortlock, "you will have to come down in yourprices after that, Mrs. Flint. Ha, ha! your question was a veryleading one, Miss Jasmine Mainwaring. "

Poor Jasmine began to feel quite alarmed, and instantly resolved notto open her lips again during tea. 

The meal proceeded, and very dull it was; nor was the fare appetizing, for the tea was weak and the bread was stale. The three young faces, so fresh from the country and from home, began to reflect the generaldulness. Mrs. Flint always made it a rule never to speak except whenobliged--Daisy was nearly asleep, Primrose felt a dreadful lump in herthroat, and Jasmine's dark curly head was bent low, and her brighteyes were not seen under their long lashes, for she was very wellaware that they were full of tears. 

She was a most impulsive creature, however, quick and variable in hermoods, unselfish in her character. Suddenly it dawned upon her that itwas not fair to the rest of the party that she should be so dull. Shehad always been considered the sunbeam at home; why should she not tryto become the sunbeam of Penelope Mansion?

"I know what will do it, " she exclaimed, jumping from her seat, andnearly upsetting her own tea and Daisy's. "Of course, how silly ofme!--I know what will alter things directly. " Then she flew out of theroom, returning the next moment with Mrs. Ellsworthy's great basket offruit and flowers. 

"Primrose, " she said, "mightn't we share these with the ladies? Theyare all quite fresh from the country. Oh yes, of course we may sharethem. Mrs. Flint, which will you have, some flowers, a bunch ofgrapes, or a peach?"

Mrs. Flint selected a good-sized bunch of grapes with a placid smile, and a "Thank you, Miss Jasmine"--Mrs. Mortlock also took grapes, MissSlowcum selected flowers, and Mrs. Dredge partook of a peach withgreat relish, calling it, as she did so, a "sweet reminiscence of theblooming country. "

After this little incident the ladies of Penelope Mansion and theMainwaring girls became quite friendly; nevertheless the three criedthemselves to sleep that night. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

ESCORTED BY MISS SLOWCUM. 

"Within the house at least, " remarked Poppy Jenkins, "it ain't what wedreamt of. "

She was standing the next morning in the room where the three sistershad slept--it was early, only five o'clock in the morning, but thiswas Poppy's London hour for rising. Jasmine was sitting up in bed andregarding her earnestly, Primrose was also awake, but Daisy slept likea cherub. 

"It ain't what we dreamt of, " continued Poppy--"it's work, and it'sdirt, and it's dust, and it's smuts. Oh, my word! the smuts is enoughto turn one crazy. Nothing is white here, as you calls white in thecountry--speckled is more the word. No, no. Penelope Mansion is, taking it all in all, a biting disappointment. "

"Well Poppy, Penelope Mansion is not the whole of London, " saidJasmine, in a rather quavering, but would-be wise voice. 

"Yes, but it's the London I has got to do with, " answered PoppyJenkins--"and oh! the worst of all is, that aunt won't have me calledby my home name--she speaks of it most bitter as a 'weed. ' She sayspoppies are what are meant in the Scripter by the tares. Don't itsound real awful?--I trembled all over when she told me that. So SarahI am here, and Sarah Ann, and Sarah Jane, and Sarah Mary the ladiescalls me. When they're in a very good humor I'm Sarah Mary, and whenthey're a bit put out it's Sarah Jane they calls for, and now and thenI'm Sarah Ann--then I know I'm in for a scolding. Oh yes, MissPrimrose, London is not what we thought it. "

"Never mind, " said Primrose sweetly; "you'll always be Poppy to us, dear, and I know the tares were not poppies, so don't you fret--thepoppy is a sweet flower, and Poppy is a sweet name for a girl. Why wefour are all called after flowers, and we must just be very friendly, and very brave and loving and sweet in this London, and then, perhaps, it won't disappoint us. "

"You're real kind, Miss Primrose, " said Poppy. "Yes, it's a great easeto me to know as you three are in the house. I won't be solonesome-like now, and I won't be dreaming that I'm a tare. It's awfulto think of yourself as a tare, but I know now that aunt made amistake. Oh, ain't Miss Daisy beautiful in her sleep? Now look here, you're all tired, and I'll bring you up your breakfasts in bed. Youshall have some of mother's fresh eggs and real country butter. I'llrun downstairs, and bring you up some breakfast the very first thing. "

The girls spent that morning in their room. They unpacked a few oftheir things, and put their mother's picture on the mantel-piece, andPrimrose opened Mr. Danesfield's letter. It contained an enclosurewithin and on this enclosure was written, in a funny little printinghand, "When you want me, use me; don't return me, and never abuse me. "

Primrose's face grew rather red. She read the funny little motto twoor three times, then put the enclosure unopened into her trunk. 

"I think, " she said, looking at Jasmine, "that we will not send thisback. I had a queer dream last night. It seemed to me that mother cameto me and said, 'Are you not foolish to cast away all your kindfriends? Try to remember that true independence is not too proud tolean on others. Primrose, for my sake do not be over proud. ' Mr. Danesfield was always a friend of mother's, " continued Primrose, "so Iwill keep his letter until we want it, and will write him a littlenote to thank him for it. "

Then the girls sat down by the open window and looked out into thestreet. It was a very dull street, and the day was warm and murky, with no sun shining. 

"This afternoon we will go out, " said Primrose. "I shall speak aboutit at lunch, and ask Mrs. Flint to allow us to take Poppy with us. Iam so sorry Poppy feels dull. Now, girls, we must just make up ourminds not to do that--we must keep up brave hearts, and not sigh andlook dismal; that would never do. We have elected our own course, andif we are not courageous we shall be beaten. I for one am determinednot to be beaten. "

"I've always heard, " said Jasmine, "that to sigh was very weakening. What I propose is this--that we give each other a fine whenever we areheard sighing, and another much more severe fine if we grumble, andthe worst fine of all if we cry. Now, what shall the fines be?"

After a little consideration the girls decided that the fines might aswell lead in the direction of their education. Accordingly they markedout for themselves some of the most ponderous passages in "ParadiseLost" to learn by heart, and as a severe punishment they selectedlittle bits of a very incomprehensible book, called Butler's"Analogy. " When they had carefully made these selections a ratherfeeble bell was heard to tinkle in the mansion, and they wentdownstairs to lunch. 

"I hope you are comfortably unpacked now, young ladies?" inquired Mrs. Flint. 

"And I trust you have recovered from the fatigues of your longjourney?" questioned Mrs. Dredge. "It is a weary way fromDevonshire--a long and weary way. "

"You speak of it as though it were a kind of disappointment to comefrom Devonshire to London, " remarked Miss Slowcum, "whereas London is_the_ place for aspiring souls. "

"Oh, I'm so delighted to hear you say that!" said Jasmine--"Poppy--Imean Sarah--spoke quite dismally this morning, but I knew she must bewrong. "

"The young country servant, " responded Miss Slowcum, "Sarah Jane, Ithink her name is--oh, well, her judgment need scarcely be dependedon. Yes, London is the place of places. I have lived here for years, and I ought to know. "

"We quite believe you, " said Jasmine--"don't we, Primrose?--we havecome up here because we quite feel with you; we are going out afterlunch to see the beauties of the city. "

"May I ask, young ladies, if this is your first visit to themetropolis?" suddenly inquired Mrs. Mortlock. 

Primrose answered her "Yes; we have never been here before. "

"Then, Mrs. Flint, I put it to you, is it safe to allow these youngunfledged birds out into this vast and bewildering place? ought notsome one to chaperon them?"

"We thought of asking for Poppy, " answered Jasmine. 

Here Mrs. Flint frowned at her. 

"Allow me to make one request, Miss Jasmine Mainwaring; the youngperson you speak of is not known here by a name which signifies a tareor a weed. Yes, I shall be pleased to allow Sarah to go out with youthis afternoon for a short time, but she knows as little of London asyou do. I cannot go myself, as Friday is a busy afternoon. I can, however, give you a map, and if you all keep close together and don'twander too far, and are careful only to inquire of policemen yourdestination you may get back safely. Don't forget, tea at six. "

Here Miss Slowcum, turning her eyes slowly, looked carefully all overthe three girls. 

"I am most particular, " she said; "I never wander abroad withoutcarefully choosing my company, but on the whole I feel satisfied akindred spirit to my own lurks in your eyes, Miss Jasmine. Permit me, young ladies, to escort you forth this afternoon. "

This offer was accepted very gladly, although Jasmine had quickly toremember her fine, or she would have given a very deep sigh when MissSlowcum pointed a comparison between them. In the delight, however, ofgoing into real London all these minor considerations and discomfortswere forgotten. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

IN ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. 

Miss Slowcum was right in saying that she was very particular withregard to her company. She prided herself on having select taste. Shethought it well to assume distant airs to the other inmates ofPenelope Mansion--Mrs. Dredge she thought quite beneath her notice, Mrs. Mortlock was slightly more tolerated, but Miss Slowcum neverreally unbent to either of these ladies. As she said to herself, shecould never forget that she came of the Slowcums of ----shire that herfather had been Captain Slowcum of the Royal Navy, and that, allthings considered, her true position in society was with the countyfolk. What, therefore, could a lady of such patrician birth have incommon with a Mrs. Mortlock or a Mrs. Dredge? Alas! however, MissSlowcum was poor--she was very poor, and she was a great deal toogenteel to work. The terms at Penelope Mansion were by no means high, and in order to live she was obliged to put up with uncongenialcompany. She was a very tall and angular person--her face was long andthin, her eyes small, her mouth undecided, but in her heart of heartsshe was by no means wanting in good nature; and when, the nightbefore, Jasmine, with her charming little face, offered her some ofthe country flowers, she began to take an interest in the fresh girlswho had come to the rather antiquated house in Wright Street. 

It was really good-natured of Miss Slowcum to offer to accompany thegirls on their first walk in London. She had the greatest horror ofever appearing remarkable and she felt really alarmed at the thoughtof taking four unsophisticated country lasses abroad. It was badenough to offer to escort the Mainwarings, who, however _gauche_ theymight appear, were undoubtedly ladies, but to take Poppy, _alias_Sarah, as well, was really trying. Without Poppy, however, the girlsrefused to stir. There was no help for it, and Miss Slowcum onlytrusted that their first walk might be short and uneventful. 

"It is an unpleasant arrangement, but I do not see any help for it, "she said, addressing her little party as they assembled in the hall;"we must sally forth as though we were a school. You, Miss Jasmine, will have the goodness to walk in front with me. Miss Mainwaring andher youngest sister can immediately follow us, and Sarah, you willplease to keep behind. "

"Oh, lor!" ejaculated Poppy, "I thought me and Miss Jasmine was tostay together--it's what I has been looking forward to through all thetoils of the work, and the smuts and the Sarah Janes, and the SarahMarys this morning. It is another biting. Well, London seems to bemade up of them. All right, Miss Slowcum, I'll keep behind. I supposethere's nobody to forbid me gazing well into the shop windows. I hopeyou'll take us into a gay street, miss, where there are lots of newbonnets and hats to be seen. "

"I'm going to walk with you, Poppy, " said Jasmine; "Miss Slowcum isvery kind, but I should not think of walking with any one else. Please, Miss Slowcum will you go in front, with Primrose and Daisy, and Poppy and I will promise to behave very well behind. "

In this order the little party did set out, and in an incredibly shortspace of time they left the dull region of Penelope Mansion farbehind, and found themselves in Oxford Street, and then in BondStreet, and finally walking along Piccadilly towards the Park. 

Primrose could always restrain her emotions, but Jasmine and Poppy, notwithstanding their promise to behave well, were certainly guilty ofmany extravagant exclamations. Jasmine became nearly as excited overthe new bonnets as her companion. The picture-shops were marvels ofwonder and delight to her, and poor Miss Slowcum was obliged to drawup short on many occasions, or she would have lost the littleloiterers, as they stood still to gaze. At last she made a propositionwhich nearly took her own breath away with the magnitude of itsgenerosity. She would treat the entire party to a drive in the omnibusto St. Paul's Cathedral. Poppy earnestly begged to be allowed to gowith Jasmine on the roof, but this the good lady negatived withhorror. She finally ushered her young charges into the seclusion of anomnibus going citywards, and then was conscious of breathing a sigh ofrelief. Inwardly she made a vow that never again should hergood-nature lead her into such a troublesome adventure. 

"We must be solemn here, Poppy, " said Jasmine, as they were enteringthe cathedral; "we must forget the beautiful bonnets, and those dearlittle tight-fitting jackets, and those muslin dresses. We must forgetthe little story we made up of imagining ourselves rich enough to buyall these things. Perhaps we may think a very little of one or two ofthe pictures, but we must forget the vanities now. It has always beenone of my dreams to come in here--oh! oh!--Poppy. " Jasmine clasped hercompanion's hand, and her excitable little face grew white--themagnitude of the great cathedral, the solemn hush, and quiet, andsense of rest after the rushing noise outside, was too much forher--her eyes filled with tears, and she was very nearly guilty ofcommitting the offence which would have obliged her to learn some ofButler's "Analogy" by heart. The rest of the party wandered about thecathedral, and looked at the monuments, and presently went up into theWhispering Gallery, but Jasmine felt suddenly tired and disinclined tomove about. 

"Go on with Daisy, Poppy, " she said to her companion; "I will resthere for a little;" then she seated herself on one of the chairs, andin a moment or two went down on her knees and covered her childishface with her hands. 

Not at all long was Jasmine's prayer, but somehow it was very fervent, and it certainly reached a Presence which gives strength and peace. She was no longer oppressed by St. Paul's--she was comforted andstrengthened. 

"I do hope God will help us, " she said to herself. "Oh! was it very, very rash of us to come up here?--and yet, what else could we do? Itwas Primrose's thought, too, and she is always so wise, and sogrown-up. "

Jasmine looked round the cathedral, hoping to see her party--theywere, of course, nowhere within sight, and the little girl began towalk about by herself, hoping soon to rejoin them. She dropped herumbrella, and a gentleman who had been watching her for some time withinterest stooped to pick it up. He was a young man of aboutsix-and-twenty, with a bright and pleasant face. 

"This is your first visit here?" he said, looking kindly at the child. 

"Oh, yes, " said Jasmine. Then feeling that she had a sympatheticlistener, she continued--"It is so beautiful here!"

"Yes, " answered her companion; then he added, with a second glance atthe forlorn little figure, "Are you alone, or have you lost yourparty?"

Jasmine half laughed. 

"I cannot find my party at the present moment, " she said; "but I am byno means alone--my two sisters have come here also to-day for thefirst time, and a friend is with us, and a lady has very kindlybrought us here. "

"I see, " said the stranger. "Well, it is a curious coincidence, butneither am I alone--I have brought a little lad here to show him thecathedral--he has gone into the Whispering Gallery, and I am waitingfor him. Perhaps your friends have also gone into the gallery. Whilewe are both waiting, shall we look round this delightful place? andmay I tell you a little of what I know about it?"

It was in this manner, and apparently quite by accident, that Jasminemade the acquaintance of Arthur Noel, who turned out to be one of thebest friends the girls were to make in London. Mr. Noel had taken afancy to Jasmine's sweet little face, and Jasmine, when she met with asympathetic listener, could be only too communicative. Before MissSlowcum and her sisters and Poppy joined them Mr. Noel knew somethingof Jasmine's ambitions and of Primrose's modest hopes. Jasmine hadeven confided to him the brave resolve the three sisters had made notto sigh, or grumble, or wear themselves out with useless tears. He wasvery kind, although he could not be persuaded to say that he thoughtPrimrose's scheme a wise one, but this chance encounter might neverhave led to anything further but for a little coincidence which showswhat a small place the world is, after all. When Primrose and Daisy, Poppy and the sedate Miss Slowcum, joined Jasmine, as she stood withher companion examining Nelson's monument, they were accompanied by ahandsome, bright-faced boy, who ran up to Mr. Noel, and linked hishand within his arm. This boy turned out to be young Frank Ellsworthy, and, as the girls all exclaimed on hearing the name, Mr. Noel assuredthem that the Ellsworthys were his greatest friends--that he lovedMrs. Ellsworthy almost as if she were his own mother. 

"I felt that I must speak to you, " he said to Jasmine. "I cannot tellyou why nor wherefore, but your face seemed familiar--I did not thinkyou would turn out to be an absolute stranger. "

Thus the girls made a very valuable acquaintance; nevertheless, owingto circumstances, it was many a long day before they met Arthur Noelagain. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A BRIGHT DAY. 

Last times are always sad to write about and think about, but firsttimes are generally pleasant. Notwithstanding a certain sense ofdisappointment which certainly did assail the three girls on theirentrance into London, notwithstanding the fact which Jasmine only tooquickly discovered, that the streets were not paved with gold, nor theair replete with promises, yet there was still something left in thatsame London air, a sort of mystery and wonder about it. There wasstill something of untold fascination in the busy and crowded streets, which brought a great sense of delight and exhilaration to the threeyoung adventurers. 

Jasmine spoke about the stories which met her at every turn; she feltalmost melted to tears at the sight of the sadness in the eyes of somewomen, and some little children. But again, beautiful ladies drivingpast in carriages made of almost fairy lightness caused her to laughwith pleasure. 

Primrose was more gravely impressed by London than Jasmine. Heremotions were not so keen as her younger sister's, her purpose was farmore steadfast; and even in the first few days when the girls gavethemselves up to seeing the wonderful sights of the great metropolisshe could never forget the real object for which they had come. 

Daisy, when she had become reconciled to the smuts and disagreeables, and the slights to which the Pink was exposed all day long in PenelopeMansion, began to enjoy life in a serene but unqualified manner. Eachof the girls had her own particular tastes; and these they were by nomeans slow to express to one another. 

Primrose, who intended to study china painting--to make it, in short, a profession--liked to stand opposite some large shop in OxfordStreet, and to study and try to carry away in her mind's eye the shapeand beauty of the many lovely things displayed in the windows. 

Jasmine, who during the first few days had quite made up her mind notto worry at all about the future, did not much care for these gazingfits of Primrose's. She wanted to get into the parks. She exclaimed inecstasy over the horses, and those picture-galleries which were freeto the public quite enchanted her. Daisy frankly admitted that sheliked toy-shops, and of all toy-shops those which displayed rows ofdolls in their windows the best. Primrose had decided that the threeshould have one week's holiday, and it was during this week that theybegan to make a certain first acquaintance with London. "It is theheart of the world, " Jasmine was heard to say. "Primrose, it is whatwe pictured it; in many ways it is even greater than what we picturedit. Oh, don't your cheeks glow, and don't you feel that your eyes areshining when you look down Oxford Street? Yes, it is lovely and grand, and I think we ought to show poor dear Poppy some more of itsdelights. "

Primrose was only too glad to give Poppy all the happiness in herpower, and she and Jasmine arranged that they would take the littlegirl out with them on another expedition before they settled downfinally to the great work of their lives. 

"We'll spend five shillings, " said Primrose, "we must not on anyaccount spend more, but we will be extravagant, and give poor Poppy areal treat with one crown piece. "

"We had better ask her to come to-morrow, " said Daisy; "five shillingsseems a lot of money. Do you think there will be enough over, Primrose, to buy me a tiny, tiny little doll?"

Primrose kissed Daisy, and said she would try somehow to manage thedoll, and Jasmine was elected to go downstairs and sound Poppy on thesubject of the morrow's treat. 

The little maiden had made herself pretty well at home in the Mansionby this time, and she soon discovered Poppy in what was called theback scullery. The ladies had all finished their mid-day meal, andwere out. Even Mrs. Flint had sallied forth to a distant market tosecure some cheap provisions, and Poppy had the back scullery toherself. She was handling the dinner-plates in a rather clumsy manner, and, after the fashion of a discontented little girl, was sighing overher work, and not doing it properly. 

"Oh, let me help you!" said Jasmine, dancing up to her: "I hatewashing china, or delf, or whatever you call it, after people haveeaten, but I like wiping it if the cloths are clean. Poppy, I havecome to you about a most delicious and important scheme. "

"Lor, Miss Jasmine, " said Poppy, her fingers trembling violently, andthe large dish which she was washing nearly slipping out of them. "Lor, miss, you do startle me. I was in the dumps, and you are for allthe world like the sun coming out. Why, deary me, the back sculleryain't by no means such a bad sort of place when you're in it, MissJasmine. "

"It is very damp and gloomy, all the same, " answered Jasmine. "I dohope you will be quick, Poppy, in washing up those uninterestingdinner-plates. Now, look here, Primrose and Daisy and I have beenmaking up such a lovely plan. We want to take you out with usto-morrow; we are going to spend five shillings, quite lots of money, you know, and we are going to have dinner out, and perhaps tea out;and we are going a good long way. Can you come with us to-morrow, Poppy?"

"Hold me, " said Poppy, suddenly stretching out her hand, "the sculleryis damp and close, and my head a-going round. Let's get out into theback yard, Miss Jasmine. Now I can breathe. Oh, didn't I say thatLondon was dazzling, and isn't it you three that has got the hearts ofgold. Say it all over again to me, please, Miss Jasmine. What is itwe're all a-going to do to-morrow?"

"Oh, what a silly, Poppy, you are, " said Jasmine; "why even I do notget as excited as you do. We are going out, and you are coming withus, and we are going to spend five shillings. "

Poppy's cheeks flushed a vivid crimson, her eyes sparkled, and hersmall feet began involuntarily to dance. 

"I has set my heart on something beauteous, " she said, "and, oh, dear, Miss Jasmine, you will do it, won't you? You won't let none of thembiting disappointments with which the air is choke full, as full as itis of smuts, come in the way. If you three darling ladies spend acrown piece, and take me abroad, we'll be on pleasure bent, and onpleasure alone. Say so, do, Miss Jasmine. "

"Why, Poppy, of course we are going for pleasure; what do you mean?"

"Only that we won't be going Cathedraling and Towering. I don't saynothing ag'in them places, but when I wants real pleasure, and a crownpiece spent on me, I don't go in for no Cathedraling. "

Jasmine laughed. "I tell you what, " she said, "you shall choose thepleasure yourself, Poppy. It's your treat, and you shall choose. Now, do say what hour you will be ready to start to-morrow, for we want togo early, and have a real long day. "

"Let's think, " said Poppy. "To-morrow is, yes, to-morrow is Thursday. Cold joint to-morrow, and a salad made with stale lettuce which wegets cheap; potatoes boiled plain and not mashed, and a apple dumplingto follow. The ladies is very particular that their pastry should belight. Miss Slowcum says she can't sleep a bit at night if her pastryis heavy. She called me Sarah Martha Ann the last time I made it, andshe looked most vinegary. Yes, Miss Jasmine, the dinner's plainto-morrow, and I'll get up with the daybreak, and do my cleaning. Idon't see why Aunt Flint shouldn't let me go with you, miss. "

Mrs. Flint, when properly attacked, proved herself quite vulnerable. She was anxious to please the Mainwarings who she hoped would take uptheir abode with her, for naughty Primrose had by no means divulgedher real plans. Accordingly, Poppy was allowed to get her dinnerbeforehand, and a very happy little quartet left the Mansion soonafter eleven o'clock. 

They had gone some little distance from Penelope Mansion, and foundthemselves in a far more cheerful and bright-looking street, beforePoppy divulged her plans. 

"I has got to choose, " she said, "and as I stated distinct to MissJasmine yesterday, I don't go in for the glooms of the Tower, nor thesolemns of the Cathedral. I'd like to walk from end to end of OxfordStreet first, and then I'd like to take a penny boat on the river. "

"A penny boat!" exclaimed the three sisters in a breath, "that doessound delightful, and so cheap. Where did you hear of penny boats, Poppy?"

Poppy's face became radiant. 

"It was the last charwoman at the Mansion, " she answered. "She saidthat if you wanted a pleasure, and a pleasure cheap, there was nothingin all the world like a penny boat. You sit in it, and there you are, as snug as snug; plenty of room and plenty of company, and plenty ofsights. Mrs. Jones said that if there was a pleasure to rest atired charwoman it was to be found in a penny boat. "

"Well, we are not charwomen, but we may as well have a little rest andfun while we can, " answered Jasmine. "I think yours is a lovely treat, dear Poppy, and we will try and get into the penny boat as fast aspossible. "

"I don't know how we are to reach the boats, " said Primrose. "I beginto know my way a little about Oxford Street, but how are we to findthe river?"

Poppy, however, had made good use of her acquaintance with Mrs. Jonesthe charwoman. She knew the name as well as the color of the omnibuswhich would safely convey them near to the pier at Westminster. Shealso knew, being instructed by Mrs. Jones, that a policeman was theright person to give her information as to where this special omnibuswas to be found. She was by no means shy in making her desires knownto one of these useful and worthy members of society, and in a shorttime the four found themselves bowling away in the direction ofWestminster, and then, without any insurmountable difficulty, securedcomfortable seats on one of the river steamers. 

The day was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and the summerbreezes fanned the young cheeks pleasantly, and raised the youthfulspirits to an exhilarating height. Poppy forgot her troubles inPenelope Mansion, her difficulties with regard to the name of Sarah. She forgot the gloom of the back scullery, and the discontented frownquite vanished from her brow. London was again dazzling in her eyes, and her own future was replete with hope. 

Primrose also ceased to worry over the anxieties and cares of thefuture; she ceased to reflect on the plan which was so soon to becarried into execution. Her serene face looked sweet and careless asin the happy days of her mother's lifetime. She leaned back in herseat, gazed at the beauties of the river, and gave herself up to thehappiness of the hour. 

The two younger girls, being never over anxious and being always moreor less full of hope, were to-day only more hopeful and bright thanusual. Many people turned to look at the pretty sisters, and to laughat Poppy's innocent expressions of rapture. 

They landed at Battersea, and wandered about the pretty park, and hadrefreshments in a quaint restaurant, where they really managed tosatisfy their hunger at a very moderate charge. 

That evening they returned to the Mansion, having kept within thelimits of the prescribed five shillings, and each of them declaringthat she had never known a happier day. 

"But now, " said Primrose, addressing her two sisters solemnly, "wemust remember that after to-night we have done with pleasure. To-morrow we must seriously set about forming our plans. "

CHAPTER XX. 

GETTING LOST. 

Primrose's scheme had, of course, been considered most wild and mostfoolish by all her friends at Rosebury but even they were not preparedfor her crowning act of folly. She, Jasmine and Daisy had aconsultation together. This consultation was really nothing but amatter of form, for Primrose, quiet as she appeared could lead her twosisters as she willed--her slightest word was law to them, and themost outrageous plan proposed by her would have been delightful intheir eyes. Her suggestion to them was as follows:

"We will go to London, " she said--"we will try to be independent, andto earn our own living, and in order to do so really, and to preventourselves being tempted by Mrs. Ellsworthy's riches, or by MissMartineau's advice, we will not give our address. We will stay for ashort time at Penelope Mansion, and then we will go away. We will findthose nice, clean, cheap lodgings, where we can hang up our muslincurtains, and keep things lovely and fresh, even though we are inLondon, and we will stay there without troubling our friends about usuntil we have succeeded. The moment we have succeeded in earningenough to live on we will write home. "

Jasmine, and of course little Daisy, approved of this idea--Jasminesaid it was both romantic and strong--Daisy said she only wanted to bewith her own Primrose and her own Jasmine, and if the Pink mightalways stay with her too she would be quite happy. 

Accordingly, when the girls' week of pleasure had quite come to anend, Primrose reminded her sisters that it was time for them to beginto get lost. 

"We are not really lost here, " she said. "Mrs. Ellsworthy thinksnothing of coming to town, and she could come to us at the Mansion anymoment; and now that we have met that friend of hers, that Mr. Noel, she may be sending him to see about us--so you see it is moreimportant than ever that we should find a place where we can reallycommence our work. "

"I don't dislike Mr. Noel at all, " said Jasmine. "It is a great pityhe is related to our darling Mrs. Ellsworthy, for we might have hadthe comfort of his advice without being considered dependent. Oh, Primrose! is it possible that we are too independent--I can't help it, Primrose; I do feel lonely. I must cry just for a minute. I'd ratherdo a page of the 'Analogy' to-night than not cry for a minute. "

"My darling, " said Primrose, putting her arms round Jasmine, "I amsure that girls like us cannot be too independent, but I won't go onwith it if it really breaks your heart, Jasmine. "

"Oh, but it doesn't really, " said Jasmine; "I think it's a noble plan;I wouldn't give in for the world. I have had my cry now, and I'mbetter--but, Rose, how are we to look out for these nice, clean, cheaplodgings if we aren't to consult any one?"

"We can consult people, and find out the locality we want, but we neednever tell the people we consult what number in the street we reallychoose. Oh, there are lots of ways of finding out what we really wantto know. "

"I'll talk to Mrs. Dredge to-night, " said Jasmine. "I think Mrs. Dredge is very practical and kind, and I don't know why Miss Slowcumshould dislike her so much. I'll get her all by myself this evening, and talk to her. "

Accordingly that evening, after the inmates of Penelope Mansion had, as Mrs. Flint styled it, "tea'd, " Jasmine sat down on a footstool atMrs. Dredge's feet, and laid herself out to be bewitching. No onecould be more charming than this little maiden when she chose, and shehad tact enough to adapt herself on most occasions to her company. 

"I'm sure you have lots of experience, Mrs. Dredge, " she began; "youlook as if you had--your face tells me that you have gone through manyepisodes"--(Jasmine was rather proud of this expression; she began toconsider that her style was forming). 

"Episodes, my dear, and experiences?" answered Mrs. Dredge. "Well, well, I'm not to say over young, and years bring knowledge; but if youmean, Miss Jasmine, that I'm up to the acquirements of the presentday, that I'm not, and I never will be, --no, thank Heaven! that Inever will be. "

"Do you mean with regard to education?" remarked Jasmine. "Is theeducation of the present day wrong?--is that why you're so thankfulyou are not up to it?"

"My dear Miss Jasmine, " answered Mrs. Dredge, with great solemnity, "the education of the present day is to the heart hardening, and tothe mind demoralizing. No, no; none of it for me. Miss Slowcum, now!Miss Jasmine, between you and me I don't admire Miss Slowcum. "

"Oh, she's very kind, " answered Jasmine; "but look here, Mrs. Dredge, what I want to consult you about has nothing at all to say toeducation, and it has a great deal to say to experience. It's a greatsecret, Mrs. Dredge, but we want to find cheap lodgings. "

"Oh, my dear! and don't you want to abide at the Mansion--all thingsconsidered, it's a respectable and safe quarter--you are all threeyoung and attractive, my dears, and you have the advantage of beingguarded here by women who have years on their shoulders. Yes, my dearMiss Jasmine, with the exception of your three selves and the maidSarah, there is no one in Penelope Mansion who will ever see fiftyagain. Don't talk to me of Miss Slowcum being younger than that--Iknow better. "

"Dear Mrs. Dredge, it is a secret, but we are really not going to stayhere long, and we want, if possible, to find very cheap lodgings. "

"Very cheap, love; and you think I can guide you? Well, well, I havehad, as you wisely say, my experiences. About what figure would you beinclined to go to, my dear?"

"I don't know, " answered Jasmine. "Our house in the country was twelvepounds a year--I don't think we ought to pay as much as that, for ofcourse we should not want a whole house, only two rooms. A nice, large, airy bedroom, and a cheerful sitting-room. We should not mindhow plain the furniture was, if only it was very, very clean. You knowthe kind of place, with snow-white boards--the sort of boards youcould eat off--and little plain beds with dimity frills round them, and very white muslin blinds to the windows--we have got our own whitemuslin curtains; Hannah washed them for us, and they are as white assnow. Oh! the place we want might be very humble, and veryinexpensive. Do tell us if you know of any rooms that would suit us. "

While Jasmine was speaking Mrs. Dredge kept on gazing at her, herround face growing long, and her full blue eyes becoming extended totheir largest size. 

"My dear child, " she said, "wherever were you brought up? Don't youknow that the kind of lodgings you want are just the hardest of all toget? Yes, my dear, I have experience in London apartments, and aboutthem, and with regard to them, there is one invariable and unbrokenrule--cheapness and dirt--expense and cleanliness. Bless you! youinnocent child, you had better give up the notion of the cheaplodgings, and stay on contented and happy at the Mansion. "

Jasmine smiled faintly--said "Thank you, Mrs. Dredge, " in a prettygentle voice, and a moment or two later, with a deeper carnation thanusual in her cheeks, she quietly left the room. 

"Primrose, " she said upstairs to her sister, "we mustn't ask adviceabout our lodgings; we must take the map with us, and go and look forthem all by ourselves. Mrs. Dredge says that clean lodgings are very, very dear, and it is only dirty lodgings that are cheap. "

When Jasmine ran into the room Primrose was standing by thedressing-table, and in her usual methodical fashion was putting tidilyaway her own things and her sisters'; now she faced Jasmine with alittle smile on her face. 

"There is just one thing, " she said, "that we can do--we can with ourown hands make the dirty lodgings clean. Never mind, Jasmine darling, we won't ask anybody's advice; we'll go out and look round usto-morrow. "

Early the next morning the three sisters set out--Daisy having firstlocked the Pink in their room. It may be remarked in parenthesis thatthe Pink did not like her new quarters, and had already made herselfnotorious by breaking two saucers and a cup, by upsetting a basin ofmilk, and by disappearing with the leg of a chicken. In consequence, she was in great disgrace, and Mrs. Flint had been heard to speak ofher as "that odious cat!" The Pink, however, was safe for the present, and the girls set out on their little pilgrimage of discovery. 

"London, " said Primrose, in a somewhat sententious voice, has "pointsof the compass, like any other place. It has its north and its south, its east and its west. The west, I have been told, is the aristocraticand expensive quarter, so of course we won't go there. In the east, the miserably poor and dirty people live--we won't troublethem--therefore our choice must lie between the south and the north. On the whole, I am inclined to try the north side of London. "

 "For dark and true and tender is the North, "

quoted Jasmine with enthusiasm. "By all means, Rose, we will gonorthwards, but how shall we go?"

"We'll inquire at the post-office just round this corner, " answeredPrimrose, with decision. 

Accordingly, having received some rather lucid instructions the girlsfound themselves in a few moments in an omnibus going towardsHolloway. About noon they were landed there, and then their searchbegan. Oh, the weariness of that long day! Oh, the painful experienceof the three! They knew nothing about London prices--they had not anidea whether they were being imposed upon or not. 

"On one point we have quite made up our minds, " said Jasmine, sturdily; "we won't go back to the Mansion until we have found rooms. "

The truth of Mrs. Dredge's prophecy became only too apparent. All theapartments that were bright and clean and cheery were quite tooexpensive for Primrose's slender purse. At last she came to aresolution. 

"Girls, " she said, "we must take rooms that look dirty, and make themclean. We have at least been taught how to polish, and how to scrub, and how to clean. You know, Jasmine, how shocked Miss Martineau waswhen she saw you one day with a pair of gloves on down on your kneespolishing the drawing-room grate at Rosebury. You said you liked to doit. How distressed she was! and how that grate did shine!"

"Don't let us talk about Rosebury just now, " said Jasmine, with aquiver in her voice. "Yes, Primrose darling, of course we can make ourown rooms clean--we can even re-paper the walls, and we can whitewashthe ceilings. Now we know exactly what to do. At the very next housewhere we see 'Apartments to Let, ' we'll ask for dirty rooms, then ofcourse we'll get them cheap. "

"Those attics that we saw at that last house?" questioned Primrose, thoughtfully. "They were rather large, and not very dark. If we tookdown that paper, and put up a fresh one, and if we whitened theceilings and scrubbed the floors, why, those rooms might do. They werenot very expensive for London--only twelve shillings a week. "

"A frightful rent!" said Jasmine. "No wonder the people here lookcareworn, and pinched, and old. We'll go back to that house, Primrose. On the whole, the rooms may suit us. What is the landlady's name?--Oh, Mrs. Dove. We'll go back to Mrs. Dove and take her rooms. "

Accordingly, in a funny little street off the Junction Road, the threeMainwaring girls found a nest. It was a queer nest, up at the top of atall and rambling house; but Mrs. Dove appeared good-natured, and hadno objection to the young ladies doing their own papering andwhite-washing, and as Primrose took the rooms on the spot, and paida week's rent in advance, she became quite gracious. Every morning, as soon as ever breakfast was over at Penelope Mansion, the girlsstarted off to the new home they were preparing for themselves. There they worked hard, papering, white-washing, and, finally, evenpainting. By the end of a week Mrs. Dove scarcely knew her atticapartments--elegant she now called them--a charming suite. Theenthusiasm of the three young workers even infected Mrs. Dove, whocondescended to clean the windows, and to rub up the shabby furniture, so that when, at the end of the week, the attics were ready foroccupation, they were by no means so unlike Jasmine's ideal Londonrooms as might have been expected. The girls kept their own counsel, and during the week they were preparing for their flight to EdenStreet--for No. 10 Eden Street would be their future address--theytold no one at Penelope Mansion of their little plans. The good ladiesof the Mansion, Mrs. Flint excepted, were very curious about them;they wondered why the girls disappeared every day immediately afterbreakfast, and came back looking hot and tired, and yet with brightand contented faces, at night; but Jasmine had ceased to confide inMrs. Dredge; and Primrose, when she chose to be dignified, had quitepower enough to keep even Miss Slowcum at a distance. Mrs. Mortlock, who was stout, and rich, and good-tempered, tried the effect of alittle bribery on Daisy, but the sweet, staunch little maid would notbe corrupted. 

"Oh, thank you so much for those delicious chocolate creams, " shesaid. "Yes, I _do_ love chocolate creams, and you are so kind to givethem to me. Where do we spend our day?--but that is Primrose'ssecret--you would not have me so naughty as to tell!"

So the week drew to an end, and the nest, as the girls called theirrooms, was finally ready for its inmates. The snowy-white muslincurtains were really put up to the now clean windows--the walls, covered with a delicate paper, had a soft, rosy glow about them--someof the pretty home ornaments were judiciously scattered about, and therather small bedroom had three very small, but very white, littlebeds in it. 

"We'll go in for lots of flowers, you know, " said Jasmine. "I don'tsuppose even in London flowers are very dear. "

At last there came a morning when the girls went away from PenelopeMansion as usual, and only Mrs. Flint and Poppy knew that they werenot returning in the evening. Mrs. Flint felt rather indignant withthe young ladies for deserting her--not that she said anything for shealways made it a rule not to wear herself out with unnecessary words, or with fretting, or with undue excitement; nevertheless, on thisoccasion she was a little indignant, for surely, what place couldcompare with the Mansion? Poor Poppy bade the young ladies, whom sheloved, good-bye with an almost breaking heart. 

"It's all one, Miss Jasmine, " she exclaimed; "if it was my dyingbreath, I'd have to own that London is not what we picteredit--vanities there is, and troubles there is, and disappointments mostnumerous and most biting. But for the one happy day I spent out withyou dear young ladies, I hasn't known no happiness in London. Oh, MissJasmine, " drawing up short and looking her young lady full in theface--"what dreadful lies them novels tells! I read them afore I came, and I made up such wonderful picters; but I will own that what withthe ladies in this mansion, as worrit me almost past bearing, and whatwith you going away all secret like, and what with me being no longerPoppy the tare, but Sarah Jane the drudge, even if I was to get one ofthe bonnets that they show in the shop windows in Bond Street, why, itwouldn't draw a smile from me Miss Jasmine!"

CHAPTER XXI. 

HOW TO PAINT CHINA AND HOW TO FORM STYLE. 

Mrs. Dove had a great many lodgers--she let rooms on each of herfloors, and she called her lodgers by the name of the floor theyoccupied--first floor, second floor, third floor came and went to 10, Eden Street. The girls were known as "the attics, " and Jasmine feltvery indignant at the name. 

"It's almost as bad as being a tare, " she said to Primrose. "Dear, dear! I never thought I should turn into an attic! What an unpleasantplace London is! I begin to think Poppy is quite right in what shesays of it. "

"I begin to suspect, " said Primrose, "that London, like all places, has its shady side and its bright side. We are in the shady side atpresent, dear Jasmine--that is all. "

Mrs. Dove had not only lodgers who seemed to worry her from morning tonight--for, unlike her name, she was always fretting or scoldingsomebody--but she also had a husband, and this husband made hispresence felt by every lodger in the house. He was often away for awhole week at a time, and then comparative peace reigned in No. 10;but he would come back at unexpected moments--he would enter thehouse, singing out, in a loud rasping voice--

 "Mrs. Dove, My only love!"

And then poor Mrs. Dove would get flushed and uncomfortable and losewhat little self-possession she ever had, and would own in confidenceto the first floor, or the second floor, or the attics, just as theyhappened to be present, that Mr. Dove's honeyed phrases were onlywords after all, and meant quite the contrary. 

The girls were not a week at No. 10, Eden Street, before it becamevery apparent to them that there was little of the real Eden to befound in the place. They kept themselves, however, quite apart fromthe other lodgers; they began to get out their books and theiremployments, and what with housekeeping, and what with cleaning theirrooms, and going out for long rambling walks in all directions, theywere busy from morning to night. Primrose said they would spend afortnight in the attics, and then the education which was by-and-by tolead to bread-winning must commence. Never did three more ignorantgirls gird themselves for the fray. Primrose had a natural love forpainting. She had none of the knowledge, none of the grounding, whichis essential for real success in all departments of art in the presentday; but she had a quick and correct eye for color, and all that MissMartineau knew she had imparted to her. Primrose looked in at the shopwindows, and saw the lovely painted china, and resolved to takelessons in this art. After some little difficulty, and afterquestioning first Mrs. Dove, and finally the much-dreaded Mr. Dove, she was directed to a teacher, who promised to instruct her at therate of three pounds three shillings for twelve lessons. Primrose didnot know whether her teacher was good or bad, or whether she waspaying too much or too little--she resolved to take the lessons and tospend some of her little capital in buying the necessary materials. 

"After I've had my twelve lessons Mr. Jones thinks I may begin tooffer some of my plates and things for sale; he says he will be veryglad to put them up in his own shop window. He thinks, " continuedPrimrose with her sweet, grave smile, "that I may be able to recoupmyself for the expense of learning at the end of a few months. "

"And now, " said Jasmine, "what am I to do? It's all settled for you, Primrose--you will be an artist--and you shall paint a breakfast setfor our nest in your odd moments, and I'll buy it from you when myship comes home. Oh! and we are both going to be very successful, arewe not, darling? and we won't have any trouble at all in supportingour pet Daisy and her kitty-cat. You know, Primrose, my gifts lie inthe poetic and novelistic line. I have really thought of a glowingplot for a story since I came to London, and Mr. Dove is to be theruffian of the piece. I'll introduce Mrs. Dredge and poor Miss Slowcumtoo, and, of course, you'll be the heroine, my beautiful sister. Imean to buy some paper, and work away at my novel in the evenings nextweek; but as we have come up to London expressly to have our educationperfected, and our gifts developed, don't you think I ought to behaving some lessons in English style? After all, Primrose, I do notthink Mrs. Flint's way of speaking was correct. Arthur Noel did nottalk in the least like her, nor did dear Mrs. Ellsworthy; and afterall, they are a real lady and gentleman. I wonder, Primrose, who wouldteach me proper style. I wish I could meet Arthur Noel again, that hemight tell me!"

"Oh, Jasmine, it is dreadful of you to speak of a perfect stranger byhis Christian name! Don't do it, dear--I know it is not right. "

"He did not seem the least like a stranger, " said Jasmine, pushingback her curling locks. "Well, Rose, who is to teach me style?--yousee, if I am to earn money by my pen I must be polished up. I have gota poem now in the back of my head which would exactly suit the ----_Review_. It's almost exactly on the lines of one they published notlong ago by Tennyson; but I'd rather not send it until I've had alesson or two from some gifted person here--who shall I go to, Primrose?"

"You must go to a school, of course, " answered Primrose. "There is aseminary for young ladies just round the corner--we will call therethis afternoon, and find out if the lady can give you lessons. "

Miss Egerton, the principal of the seminary in question, opened hereyes a good deal at Jasmine's modest request. 

"I don't want French, nor German, nor music, " quoth the young lady, "but I do want to be helped to make very smooth and flowing verses, and I want to have the plots of my novels cut up and criticised--for Idon't mind telling you, " continued Jasmine, looking full into MissEgerton's deeply-lined and anxious face, "that I mean to live by mypen. My sister is to be an artist, and I am to be a novelist andpoet. "

Miss Egerton owned to herself afterwards that she had never met suchextraordinary girls; but then they were so pretty, and so fresh, andthe times were hard, and the High Schools were carrying off all herpupils, so though she knew little or nothing of making up verses ordeveloping plots, she promised to receive Jasmine as a pupil, todirect her reading, and to help her to the best of her ability. Shewas a good and kind-hearted woman, and she made a further suggestion. 

"What is to become of your little sister while you are both so busy, young ladies?" she said. 

"Oh, Daisy promises to be very good, " said Primrose with a tendersmile at the little one. "Daisy will stay at home, and take care ofthe Pink, and she is learning to sew very nicely. When Daisy is goodand stays quietly at home she helps our plan, and does as much for ourcause as any of us. "

Miss Egerton looked straight into Daisy's eyes. Long ago this dry andhard-looking old maid had a little sister like Daisy--a pretty littlelass, who went away to play in the heavenly gardens many and many ayear ago. For the sake of little Constance Miss Egerton felt a greatkindness welling up in her heart towards Daisy Mainwaring. 

"Your little sister must not stay at home by herself, " she said. "Sheshall come to me. While I am teaching Miss Jasmine, Daisy can play orwork as she pleases, only not by herself in your lodgings, youngladies, but in the room with her sister. "

So it was arranged, and the three girls might fairly have been said tocommence their work. 

When Primrose had gone to Mr. Danesfield and asked him to allow her todraw their little capital out of his bank, he had made wonderfullyfew objections. Of all their friends, he was the one who had opposedPrimrose's scheme the least, and perhaps for that reason she was morewilling to take his advice, and to be guided by him, than by eitherMrs. Ellsworthy or Miss Martineau. Mr. Danesfield had said to her: "Mydear, you and your sisters are in some particulars in a very uniqueand unfortunate position. You are all three very young, yet you areabsolutely your own mistresses. No one in all the world has any realcontrol over you. If you ask me for your money, I cannot refuse you--Ihave absolutely no choice in the matter; the money is yours, and whenyou want it you must have it. Now I tell you plainly that Mrs. Ellsworthy and Miss Martineau are dreadfully shocked with your scheme. I may be wrong, but I confess I am not shocked. I fancy that you arethe kind of girls who will come out victorious, and that though youwill have rather a hard struggle, you will not be beaten; but there isone thing I am most anxious to do for you, and that is to keep part ofyour money. You have exactly two hundred pounds. How much of thislittle capital do you propose to spend a year?"

"As little as ever we can, " answered Primrose. 

"Yes, my dear young lady, but you must have some sort of idea withregard to your expenses. I would counsel you on no account to spendmore of your capital than seventy pounds a year; by restrictingyourselves to this sum you will have a very tiny but certain, incomefor two years, and will have something to fall back on even in thethird year, if you are not then earning enough. Suppose I divide yourseventy pounds into four quarterly instalments, and send it to you asyou require it. You know nothing of keeping a banking accountyourself, and it will absolutely not be safe for you to live in Londonlodgings, and have a large sum of money with you. Take my advice inthis particular, Miss Primrose, and allow me still to be your banker. "

"There is one little difficulty, " said Primrose; "we really want to beindependent, and as we know that there will be difficulties anddiscouragements in the career we are marking out for ourselves, andthat we may often grow faint-hearted and lonely, Jasmine and I feelthat we had better put ourselves quite out of the way of temptation. We have, therefore, made up our minds not to give our address to anyone in Rosebury for at least two years. How can you send us the money, Mr. Danesfield, if you don't know where to send it?"

"My dear young lady, I fear you are a little bit too headstrong, andthough I admire your spirit, I cannot quite approve of your cuttingyourselves off from all communications with your friends. However, itis not for me to interfere. Will this satisfy you, MissPrimrose?--shall I give you my solemn promise only to use the addresswith which you favor me to forward your money each quarter, and neverto divulge your secret to anybody else?"

Finally this plan was adopted, and Primrose received her smallquarterly allowance with great regularity. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

CROSS PURPOSES. 

After his interview with Jasmine in St. Paul's Cathedral, Arthur Noelwent home to his very luxurious chambers in Westminster, and wrote thefollowing letter to Mrs. Ellsworthy:--

"MY DEAR MOTHER-FRIEND, "The most curious thing has happened. I came accidentally to-dayacross the three girls about whom you were so interested. I met themat St. Paul's, and could not help speaking to the second one. Thebrightness, and yet the melancholy, of her little face attracted myattention. She was not with the rest of her party, but sat for some ofthe time on one of the chairs, and then knelt down and covered herface. Poor little soul! I think she was crying. My sympathies wereroused by her, and I spoke. She flashed up a very bright glance at me, and we became friends on the spot. I took her about the cathedral, andshowed her one or two objects of interest. She was full ofintelligence. Then her sisters joined her, and your boy came up, and, of course, his name came out; and there was confusion and wonderingglances, and the girl whom I had spoken to turned first crimson, andthen white, and her dark grey eyes became full of tears. 'I know theEllsworthys; they are my dear, dear friends!' she exclaimed. 

"I found out where the three lived before I left them. They wereaccompanied by a prim-looking maiden lady, who was introduced to me asa Miss Slowcum, and who appeared to be taking excellent care of thepretty creatures. All three are delightful, and I have lost my heartto them all. 

"Can I do anything for them? Of course you have already told me whatperverse creatures they are, and Miss Jasmine confirmed your story, only, of course, she put her own coloring on it. I pity them, and yet, to a certain extent--forgive me, mother-friend--I admire their spirit. That eldest girl had a look about her face which will certainly keepevery one from being rude to her. Such an expression of innocence anddignity combined I have seldom come across. Now, can I help them? Itis an extraordinary thing, but I have a wonderful fellow-feeling forthem. I can never forget the old days when I too was alone in London, and you took me up. Do you remember how you met me, and took my thinand dirty hands in yours, and looked into my face and said: 'Surelythis is a gentleman's son, although he is clothed in rags?' I couldjust remember that I was a gentleman's son, and that I used to put myarms round a beautiful lady's neck and kiss her, and call her mother. Between her face and me there was a great horror of darkness, andsuffering, and ill-usage; and my memories were feeble and dream-like. I don't even now recall them more vividly. You took me up, and--youknow the rest of my history. 

"Well, it is a strange thing, but those girls, especially that littleJasmine, brought back the memory of the lady whose sweet face I usedto kiss. Can I do anything for your girls? There are a thousand waysin which I could help them without hurting their proud spirits. 

 "Yours affectionately, "ARTHUR NOEL. "

In a very short time Mr. Noel received a brief communication from Mrs. Ellsworthy:--

MY DEAR ARTHUR, "Your letter has been an untold relief. It was a special and goodProvidence that directed your steps to St. Paul's on that afternoon. My dear little Jasmine!--she is my pet of all the three. My dearArthur, pray call on the girls at that dreadful Penelope Mansion; theyare so naughty and so obstinate that they simply must be caught byguile. You must use your influence to get them out of that dreadfulplace. Look for respectable and nice lodgings, and go beforehand tothe landlady. If she is very nice, confide in her, and tell her she isto look to me for payment, but she is on no account to let out thisfact to the girls. Kensington is a nice, quiet, respectableneighborhood; you might take the drawing-room floor of a very quiet, nice house, and ask the landlady to offer it to the girls for fiveshillings a week, or something nominal of that sort. Primrose is soinnocent at present that she will think five shillings quite a largesum; but tell the lady of the house to let it include all extras--Imean such as gas and firing. I suppose you could not get a house withthe electric light?--no, of course not; it is not used yet in privatedwellings--gas is so unwholesome, but the girls might use candles. Tell the landlady to provide them with the best candles, and tell herI'll pay her something handsome if she'll go out with them. And, mydear Arthur, _don't_ let them go in omnibuses. Do your best, and, above all things, take them away from that awful mansion as soon aspossible. 

 "Your affectionate Mother-Friend, "KATE ELLSWORTHY. "

But alas! when Arthur Noel, in accordance with Mrs. Ellsworthy'sinstructions, went to see the girls, he was confronted first by Mrs. Flint, who assured him in her soft and cushion-like style that theyoung ladies had left, and as they had been undutiful enough not toconfide in her she could furnish him with no address. As he wasleaving the mansion Poppy Jenkins rushed up to him. 

"I heard you asking for my young ladies, sir, but it ain't no use, forthey're gone. Flowers of beauty they was--beautiful in manner and inface--but they ain't to be found here no more. The Mansion didn't suitthem, and the people in the Mansion didn't suit them, and that isn'tto be wondered at. I suppose they has gone to a more congenial place, but the address is hid from me; no, sir, I know nothing at all aboutthem. Yes, sir, it's quite true--I misses them most bitter!"

Here poor Poppy, covering her face with her hands, burst into tearsand disappeared down the back staircase. 

Noel wrote to Mrs. Ellsworthy, and Mrs. Ellsworthy wrote back to him, and between them they made many inquiries, and took many steps, whichthey felt quite sure must lead to discovery, but notwithstanding alltheir efforts they obtained no clue to the whereabouts of theMainwaring girls. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

DARK DAYS. 

"How bitterly cold it is, Primrose!"

The speaker was Jasmine; she sat huddled up to a small, but brightfire, which burned in the sitting-room grate. 

The girls had now been several months in Eden Street, and all thesummer weather and the summer flowers had departed, and the evening inquestion was a very dull and foggy one in late November. 

The little sitting-room still wore its rose-tinted paper, but thewhite curtains at the windows had assumed a decided and permanent tintof yellow, and the fog found its way in through the badly-fittingattic windows, and made the whole room look cloudy. The girls' faces, too, had altered with the months. Jasmine had lost a good deal of hervivacity, her expression was slightly fretful, and she no longerlooked the spruce and sparkling little lass who had gone away fromRosebury in the summer. Primrose had lost the faint color which usedto tinge her cheeks; they were now almost too white for beauty, buther eyes were still clear, calm, and sweet; her dress was still theessence of simplicity and neatness, and her bearing was gentle anddignified as of old. The alteration in Daisy was less apparent at thismoment, for she was stretched on two cushions in one corner of thesitting-room, and with a warm rug thrown over her, and with the Pinkcurled up in her arms, was fast asleep. 

"How cold it is, Primrose, " repeated Jasmine; then, as her sister madeno reply, but went on calmly darning some stockings, she continued, "Ithink you have really grown stingy. Why can't we have some more coal?this is much too small a fire for weather with snow on the ground, anda horrid, odious fog filling every corner. "

"Hush!" said Primrose, laying down her work, and stooping towards heryounger sister, who sat on the hearthrug, "I am keeping the coal toput on until Daisy wakes. You know, Jasmine, we resolved not to run upany bills, and I cannot get in any coal until Mr. Danesfield sends usour next quarter's allowance--wrap my fur cloak round you, darling, and then you will be quite warm. "

Jasmine shivered, but rising slowly, she went into the bedroom, andreturned in a moment, not with the fur cloak, but with a white woollyshawl. "The day for Mr. Danesfield's money will arrive in less than aweek, " she said. "Oh, Primrose! I thought you were going to be a goodmanager; I did not think you were going to bring us to this. "

Primrose smiled. 

"Jasmine, dear, " she said, "you are not quite brave to-night, or youwould not speak to me in that tone. You forget that we should not havebeen short of money had not that five-pound note been stolen from us. When Mr. Danesfield's allowance comes in we shall be able to go on asusual, and then you need not suffer from a short allowance of fire. Jasmine, I know what is the matter with you; you did not eat halfenough dinner to-day. When I was out this afternoon I called to seeMiss Egerton, and she gave me three delicious new-laid eggs--reallynew-laid--we'll have them for supper. "

"No, we won't, " said Jasmine, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, and her pettish mood changing to a tender and very sad one--"thoseeggs were given for Daisy, and no one else shall eat them. Do youknow, Primrose, that Miss Egerton does not think Daisy at all strong?"

"Oh, she is mistaken, " said Primrose. "No one who does not know herthinks Daisy strong; she has a fragile look, but it is only her look. All my courage would go if I thought Daisy were ill--she is not ill;look at her now, what a sweet color she has on her cheeks. "

"Miss Egerton says she is like a little sister of her own, " continuedJasmine. Then she stopped suddenly. "Oh! Primrose, you are not goingto cry? oh, don't; it would be dreadful if you gave way! No, Primrose, she is not like little Constance Egerton; she is just our own Daisy, who never looks strong, but who is very strong--she shall never becold, and she shall have all the nourishment--you and I don't mind howplainly we live, do we, Queen Rose?"

Primrose had quickly wiped away her sudden tears. She rose to herfeet, and, going up to Jasmine, gave her a hasty kiss. 

"We'll remember our good old resolution, " she said brightly, "not togrumble, not to fret, not to cry. Ah! here is our dear little birdiewaking from her sleep. Now, Jasmine on with the coals, and let us havea merry blaze while I see to the supper--porridge for you and me, anda nice fresh egg and a cup of warm milk for the Daisy-flower. "

"The Pink must have some milk too, " said Daisy, as she tumbled lazilyout of her soft nest of cushions; "the Pink isn't half as fat as sheused to be--I can feel all the bones down her spine--I know she wantscream. Oh, Primrose! I had such a darling dream--I thought the Princecame and found us!"

"The Prince, Daisy?"

"Yes; and he had the look of the gentleman we met long, long, long agoat St. Paul's Cathedral! Oh, Primrose, I'm so tired of London!"

"Never mind, darling, " answered Primrose; "I'm always telling you youare only seeing the shady side at present. Only wait till Christmascomes, and Mr. Danesfield sends us our money. "

"I wrote another poem last night, " said Jasmine; "I called it 'TheUses of Adversity. ' It was very mournful indeed; it was a sort ofstory in blank verse of people who were cold and hungry, and I mixedup London fogs, and attic rooms, and curtains that were once white, and had now turned yellow, and sloppy streets covered with snow, withthe story. It was really very sad, and I cried a great deal over it. Iam looking out now for a journal which likes melancholy things to sendit to. I have not ventured to submit it to Miss Egerton, for she is sodreadfully severe, and I don't think much of her taste. She will neverpraise anything I do unless it is so simple as to be almost babyish. Now 'The Uses of Adversity' is as far as possible formed on the modelof Milton's 'Paradise Lost'--it is strong, but gloomy. Shall I read itto you after supper, Primrose?"

"If you like, dear, " answered Primrose; "but why do you try to writesuch very sad things, Jasmine?"

"Oh, I don't know; they suit me. Primrose, do you know of a very, verymelancholy periodical?"

"Several of the periodicals seem to me rather melancholy, " answeredPrimrose; "there is one I sometimes see on Mrs. Dove's table--it iscalled _The Watch_. I glanced at it one day, and I thought it seemedvery morbid. "

"Oh, I know, " answered Jasmine; "but there is a worse one thanthat--Mrs. Dove showed it to me. Mrs. Dove is very fond of reading, and she told me that she would not give a farthing for any literaturethat could not draw forth the salt and bitter tear; she says themagazine she likes best at present is a new one called _The Downfall_. She says it is very little known, but its melancholy is profound. Shall I send my verses to _The Downfall_, Primrose?"

"If you like, dear; but I don't at all admire the name, and I reallydo not think Mrs. Dove ought to be your guide in such matters, Jasmine. "

"Oh, she has very good taste, " answered Jasmine; "she says that onlyreal talent is admitted on the staff of _The Downfall_. Of course I'drather write for one of the shilling magazines. Well, if you like, I'll send my poem to one of them first. "

Before Primrose could answer Jasmine on this weighty point there camea knock on the sitting-room door, and Mrs. Dove, with her face wrappedup in a thick woollen shawl, entered the room. 

"Very sorry to disturb you, young ladies, " she said, "but could youoblige me with the loan of three and tenpence-halfpenny. Dove has putin no appearance, and unless I can pay three and tenpence-halfpenny onaccount to the baker he refuses positive to allow me sufficient breadto see Sunday through. "

When Mrs. Dove made this request Primrose's face became intenselypale. She was silent for half a minute, then she said--

"I will lend you the money this time, Mrs. Dove, but please don't askme again; you know that at this present moment you owe me very nearlytwo pounds. "

"Thank you, my dear Miss Mainwaring, " answered Mrs. Dove, in a verysuave voice, as she hastily pocketed poor Primrose's few shillings. "You are always obliging, and this, with the other trifle due, shallbe returned the moment Dove comes in--Dove is on a very good piece ofwork just at present, and the money is as safe as safe. Oh, MissJasmine, I have brought you this week's copy of _The Downfall_--theserial in it is really of the most powerful order. I have shed adeluge of tears over it. The lowest person of rank in the pages is amarquess; but the story mostly deals in ducal families. It was aterrible blow to come down to the baker from the duke's ancestralhalls--you read it, Miss Jasmine; you'll be very much overcome. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

DOVE'S JOKE. 

Primrose had always been considered a very good manager. Her talentsfor contriving, for buying, and, in short, for making a shilling dothe utmost that a shilling was capable of, had been observable fromher earliest days. In the last years of her mother's life Primrose hadbeen entrusted with the family purse, and the shopkeepers at Roseburyhad known better than not to offer this bright-looking young lady thebest that they had at the lowest price. Primrose, therefore, when shecame to London, had felt pretty confident that the talents which sheknew she possessed would stand her in good stead. She still hoped tofind the cheapest shops and to get the best for her money. She laidher plans with accuracy and common sense, she divided the little sumwhich the three had to live on into weekly instalments--she resolvednot to go beyond these. But, alas! Primrose had never reckoned on acertain grave difficulty which here confronted her. Hitherto herdealings had been with honest tradespeople; now it was hermisfortune, and her sisters', to get into a house where honesty wasfar from practised. In a thousand little ways Mrs. Dove could pilferfrom the girls--she would not for the world have acknowledged toherself that she would really steal; oh, no--but she did not considerit stealing to use their coal instead of her own--of course, bymistake; she by no means considered it stealing when she baked alittle joint for them in her oven on Sunday to boil it first, and inthis way secure a very good soup for various hungry young Doves; shedid not consider it stealing to so confuse the baker's account thatsome of the loaves consumed by her children were paid for by Primrose;nor did she consider it stealing to add water to the milk with whichshe supplied the Mainwarings; above all things, and on this point shewas most emphatic, she thought it the reverse of stealing to borrow. Primrose had not been a fortnight in her house before she began to askfirst for the loan of an odd sixpence, then for half-a-crown, for ashilling here, and two shillings there. When she returned thehalf-crown it was generally done in this fashion--

"Oh, if you please, miss, I want to settle my little account. Oh, dear, dear! I was certain I had half-a-crown in my purse. Well, to besure, I forgot that Dove took it with him when he went out to hiswork this morning. Please, Miss Mainwaring, will you accept one andsixpence on account, and we'll settle the rest in an hour or two. There, miss, that's quite comfortable. "

Yes, the arrangement was certainly quite comfortable for Mrs. Dove, who could score out the half-crown debt from her slate, and quitestare when Primrose ventured to ask her for the odd shilling stillowing. 

Still, incredible as it may sound, Mrs. Dove considered herself astrictly honest woman. Perhaps, had the girls only to deal with herthey might have struggled on, badly, it is true, but still after afashion. But, alas and alas! if Mrs. Dove considered herself honest, Mr. Dove did not pretend to lay claim to this very excellent quality. Poor Primrose little guessed that that lost five-pound note, which hadgiven her such trouble, and which had almost brought gray hairs to herbright yellow head, had been really taken by Dove, who had come up tothe attics when the girls were away, had quietly taken the hinges offPrimrose's trunk at the back, had lifted the lid, and had helpedhimself neatly and deftly to that solitary note!

When the girls discovered their loss no one had been more indignantthan Dove. He had come up himself to speak to them about it, hadexamined the trunk in their presence, had told them that he had acousin of his own in the detective business whom he would put on thescent of the thief, and in the meantime he'd be very pleased, althoughhe was a remarkably poor man, to lend the young ladies ten shillings. 

Although they would not think of accepting his loan, the girls thoughtthat Dove had behaved rather kindly on this occasion, and theycertainly never in the least suspected it was into his pocket theirmoney had gone. 

Without being at all, therefore, to blame, poor Primrose foundherself, as Christmas approached, and the days grew short and cold, with very little money in her possession; of course, her quarter'sallowance would soon be due, but some days before it came she hadbroken into her last sovereign. Still, she had a resource which hersisters had forgotten, and which, luckily for her, Dove knew nothingat all about--she still had that letter of Mr. Danesfield's. She hadnever opened it, but she always kept it safely locked up in her trunk. Not for worlds would she yet break the seal--no, no, this letter wasmeant for an hour of great need. Primrose fondly and proudly hopedthat that dark and dreadful hour would never approach and that, havingwon success, she and her sisters might yet return the letter unopenedto its kind donor. In these dark days before Christmas she kept up herheart, and worked hard at her china-painting, achieving sufficientsuccess and power over her art to enable her to produce some pretty, but, alas! as yet unsaleable articles. Mr. Jones, her master, assuredher, however, that her goods must ere long find a market, and shestruggled on bravely. 

Perhaps, on the whole, Jasmine was more tried by her present life thanher sister. Jasmine's was a more highly-strung temperament; she couldbe more easily depressed and more easily elated--hers was the kind ofnature which pours forth its sweetest and best in sunshine; did thecold blasts of adversity blow too keenly on this rather tropicallittle flower, then no expansion would come to the beautiful blossoms, and the young life would fail to fulfil its promise. Jasmine was nevermeant by nature to be poor; she had been born in Italy, and somethingof the languor and the love of ease and beauty of her birthplaceseemed always to linger round her. She had talents--under certainconditions she might even have developed genius, but in no sense ofthe word was she hardy; where Primrose could endure, and even conquer, Jasmine might die. 

The little sister, who was too young to acutely feel any change whichdid not part her from Primrose and Jasmine, was, perhaps, the only oneof the three whose spirits were on a par with what they were in theold Rosebury days; but although Daisy's little mind remained tranquil, and she did not trouble herself about ways and means, nor greatly fretover the fact that the skies were leaden, and the attic room foggy, still Daisy also suffered in her rather delicate little body. Shecaught cold in the London fogs, and the cold brought on a cough, andthe cough produced loss of appetite. The two elder sisters, however, were scarcely as yet uneasy about her, and it was only Miss Egertonwho saw the likeness to little Constance growing and growing inDaisy's sweet face. Thus Christmas drew near, and the girls had notyet found their mission in life; they were by no means crushed, however, nor was Primrose tired of repeating what she firmly believed, that with the New Year some of the sunshine of London life would betheirs. 

The quarterly allowance from Mr. Danesfield always arrived on thefirst of the month. On the first of December this year the welcomeletter, with its still more welcome enclosure, was duly received. Thegirls celebrated the event with a little breakfast feast--they atewater-cresses, and Primrose and Jasmine had a sardine each to addflavor to their bread and butter. Whatever happened, Daisy always hadher fresh egg, which she shared with the Pink, for the Pink had beenbrought up daintily, and appreciated the tops of fresh eggs. On thisoccasion Mrs. Dove herself brought up Primrose's letter. Letters cameso seldom to the girls that Mrs. Dove felt it quite excusable to gazevery hard at the inscription, to study the name of the post town whichhad left its mark on the envelope, and lingering a little in the room, under cover of talking to Jasmine, to watch Primrose's face as sheopened the cover. 

"It is from Mr. Danesfield, is it not, Primrose?" exclaimedJasmine--"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Dove; no I didn't much care forthat new story which is begun in _The Downfall_. "

Mrs. Dove had a habit of dropping little curtseys when she meant to beparticularly deferential--she now dropped three in succession, andsaid in a high-pitched, and rather biting voice--

"It isn't to be expected that the opinions of young ladies and ofwomen who have gone through their world of experience, and thereforeknow what's what, should coincide. I leave you ladies three to readyour refreshing news from absent friends. "

Mrs. Dove then turned her back, and meekly shutting the door behindher, left the girls to themselves. 

"Them attics have become rather too uppish for my taste, " she said toDove when she got downstairs. "I took them a letter just now, and, myword! they had not eyes nor ears for me, though I toiled up all theweary stairs, which my shortness of breath don't agree to. It wasn'teven 'Thank you very much, Mrs. Dove, ' but all three of them, theireyes was fixed on the letter as if they'd eat it. It's my belief, Dove, that they're short of funds, for when I went yesterday to askfor the trifling loan of tenpence three-farthings to pay the cobblerfor Tommy's boots, Miss Mainwaring said, as pretty as you please, butvery prim and firm--'I haven't really got the money, Mrs. Dove. ' Well, well, I've done a deal for those girls--elbow grease I've given them, and thought I've given them, and books for the improving of theirintellecs I've lent them, and that's all the return I get, that when Ibring up a letter it isn't even 'Thank you, Mrs. Dove. ' What I say isthis, Dove, shall I give the attics notice to quit?"

"By no manner of means, " answered Dove--"you mark my words, Mrs. Dove, my only love, that why they were so flurried over the letter justreceived was because there was money in it. Don't you turn away nice, genteel, quiet-spoken young ladies from this house. There's mostlikely a postal order in that letter, and my name ain't Dove if Idon't get my gleanings from it. "

"Oh, fie, Dove! you will have your joke, " answered his wife; but shesaid nothing further about giving the Mainwarings notice to quit. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

DAISY'S PROMISE. 

Mr. Danesfield always forwarded the girls' allowance in such a waythat Primrose could easily obtain it--he did not trouble her withcheques or bank notes, but sent a money-order, which she could cash atthe nearest post-office. 

The three went out gleefully that day, and obtained their much neededmoney--then Primrose bought a new pair of boots for Daisy, and allowedJasmine to spend sixpence on scribbling paper. Having obtained thisdelightful possession, Jasmine determined to begin her great work offiction without a moment's delay; she felt that she had listened quitelong enough to Miss Egerton's gentle warnings--that she had beendiscouraged sufficiently, and that what she had really to do was toprove the stuff which was in her, and to take the world by storm. Shehesitated a little as to whether her great work was to appear beforethe world in the form of a novel or a poem. She thought that toproduce a second "Evangeline" would be a matter of but slightdifficulty, but on the whole she was inclined to give the world herexperience in the fiery and untrammelled words of prose. 

"My theme burns within me, " she said to herself. "I won't be kept backby metres or rhymes, or numbers of feet, or any of those tiresomerules which Miss Egerton tries to instil into me. Oh, I shall be happyover my work! I will forget that we are poor, and forget that we livein attics. I will work with Miss Egerton in the daytime, and I willhelp Primrose in her house-keeping, and take Daisy for a walk, butmorning and evening I will get into my Palace Beautiful, and writeaway, and forget the sordid cares of life. "

The little maid had really a certain amount of genius to guide her, and although all her ideas were crude and unpractised, she managed tobe happy in the castle which she built, and her dark eyes grew brightonce more, and her pretty face resumed its animated and contentedexpression. 

Primrose, who worked very steadily at her china-painting, was muchcheered at this time with one or two small, but _bona-fide_ orders forwork. They came not through Mr. Jones, who pocketed her money andexhibited her wares in a dusty and uncertain fashion, but through MissEgerton, who was proving herself a real friend to the girls. Primrosewas immensely cheered by these little orders, and, in consequence, Christmas Day--the girls' first Christmas Day without a home and amother--passed not uncheerfully. Things might have gone well with thethree but for an incident which occurred just at the beginning of theNew Year. 

One morning Daisy awoke shivering, and complaining of fresh cold. Sherefused, however, to stay at home by herself, and begged of Jasmine towrap her up, and take her across to Miss Egerton's, but when the twogirls reached the kind mistress's door they were informed that she hadbeen suddenly sent for to the country, and would not be back until thefollowing day. 

"You must go back now, my pet, " said Jasmine. "I'll take you backmyself, and I'll build up such a nice fire for you, and you shall lookat the dear old scrap-book which we made when we were all happy atRosebury. "

"I wish we were back at Rosebury, " said little Daisy, in a very sadand plaintive voice. "I don't think London is at all a cheerful place. We made a great mistake about it, didn't we, Jasmine? Oh, Jasmine, darling, you are not going to leave me by myself, for I really don'tfeel well this morning. "

"I'll come back ever so quickly, Eyebright, but I really think I mustdo Primrose's shopping for her, now that I am not going to MissEgerton. Primrose is working very hard at her china-painting order, and it is not fair she should be interrupted. You won't be selfish, will you, Eyebright? You know we arranged long ago that the way youwere to help matters forward was not to hinder us older girls in ourwork. "

"I know, " answered Daisy, with a patient sigh. "I won't be selfish, Jasmine. Just kiss me before you go. "

Jasmine went away, and Daisy, taking the Pink into her arms, sat downclose to the fire. She was not exactly nervous, but she scarcely likedto be left in the attics by herself. She wished Mrs. Dove would comeup, or even that Tommy Dove, who was a rude boy, and whom, as a rule, she particularly disliked, would pay her a visit. Any company, howevershe reflected, would be better than none, for she was feeling heavyand depressed with her cold. The warm feel of the Pink's furry littlebody, elapsed tightly in her arms, comforted her not a little. Sheremembered with some satisfaction that Jasmine had locked the door, and she began already to count the moments for her sister's return. 

An hour passed, and still Daisy listened for Jasmine's light andspringing step on the attic stairs. 

She was very tired now, and her head ached. She thought she would gointo the bedroom and, lying down on her little white bed, sleep awaythe weary moments. Taking the Pink with her, she did so, wrapping thecounterpane well up over them both. 

In a very few moments the child was in a heavy slumber. 

She awoke, after what seemed to herself a very short nap, to hearsounds in the bedroom. She stirred sleepily, and, opening her eyes, said--

"Oh, Jasmine, what a time you've been away!"

No answer from Jasmine, but a smothered exclamation from some oneelse; a heavy tread on the uncarpeted boards, and Dove, his face red, his shoes off, and something which looked like a screw-driver in hishands, came up and bent over the child. 

"Oh! what are you doing here, Mr. Dove?" exclaimed little Daisy. Theman bent down over her, and stared hard into her wide open blue eyes. 

[Illustration: THE MAN BENT DOWN OVER HER. Palace B]

"I didn't know you was here, missie; it was very cunning of you tofeign sleep like that--it was very cunning and over sharp, but itdon't come round me. No, no; you has got to speak up now, and say whatyou has seen, and what you hasn't seen. I allow of no nonsense withlittle girls, and I can always see through them when they mean to tella lie. You know where the children who tell lies go to, so you'dbetter speak up, and the whole truth, missie. " Dove spoke in a veryrough voice, and poor Daisy felt terribly frightened. 

"I didn't see anything, " she began, in her innocent way. "I was fast, fast asleep. I thought you were Jasmine--Jasmine should have been backlong ago. I have a bad cold, and I was trying to pass the time bygoing to sleep. I haven't seen anything, Mr. Dove. "

"Let me look into your eyes, miss, " said Dove; "open them wide, andlet me look well into them. "

"Oh! you frighten me, Mr. Dove, " said Daisy, beginning to cry. "I wasvery lonely, and I'd have liked you to come up half an hour ago; butyou look so queer now, and you speak in such a rough voiced--what isthe matter? Perhaps you were bringing up some of those books forJasmine. Oh! I don't know why you should speak to me like that. "

Dove's brow cleared; he began to believe that the child had reallybeen asleep, and had not seen the peculiar manner in which he had beenemploying himself for the last ten minutes. 

"Look here, miss, " he said, "I don't mean to be rough to you, youpretty little lady. Look here, what I was after was all kindness. Ionly spoke rough as a bit of a joke. I has got some lollipops in mypocket for a nice little maid; I wonder now who these yere lollipopsare for?"

"For me, perhaps?" said Daisy, who, although she could not haveswallowed a sweety to save her life at that moment, had sense enoughto know that her wisest plan was to propitiate Dove. 

"You're fond of lollipops then, missie? you didn't think as 'twasbecause poor Dove guessed that, that he travelled up all these wearystairs? Kind of him, wasn't it? but you're real fond of lollipops, ain't you, missy?"

"Some kinds, " answered Daisy, who was really a most fastidious child, and who shrank from the sticky-looking sweetmeats proffered to her byDove. "I like the very best chocolate creams; Primrose brings them tome sometimes, but they are rather expensive. Oh! and I like stickysweets too, " she continued seeing an ominous frown gathering on Dove'sbrow. "I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Dove. " Then making a greateffort, she put out her little white hand to take one of the sweeties. 

But Dove drew back quickly. 

"No, no, " he said, "not till they're arned--by no means until they'rearned. You don't suppose as a poor man--a poor man with a largefamily, and an only love of a wife--can afford to bring sweeties allfor nothing to rich little ladies like yourself. No, no, miss; you arnthem, and you shall have them. "

"But I'd rather not, please, " said Daisy, "I'm not _very_ hungry forsweeties to-day on account of my cold, and I think, on the whole, youhad better keep them, Mr. Dove. Indeed, I don't know how to earnthem--Primrose and Jasmine say I'm too young to earn. "

Here Dove drew himself up to his full height, and stared hard at thechild. 

"There's one way of arning, " he said, "and one only. Look you here, Miss Daisy Mainwaring, you are young, but you ain't no fool. Ef youplease, miss, you has got to make me a promise--you has got to saythat you will never tell, not to Miss Primrose nor to Miss Jasmine, nor to no one, that you've seen me in this room. I don't wish it to beknown. I has my reasons, and _whatever_ happens, you are never totell. Ef you make me the promise true and faithful, why you shall havethe sweeties, and I'll stick up for you, and be your friend throughthick and thin. You'll have Dove for your friend, Miss Daisy, and Ican tell you he ain't a friend to be lightly put aside. But if youever tell--and however secret you do it, I have got little birds whowill whisper it back to me--why, then Dove will be your enemy. Youdon't know what that means, and you won't like to know. I was my ownboy Tommy's enemy once, and I locked him up in the dark fortwenty-four hours, where no one could hear him screaming. Now, miss, you had better make me your friend; I'm real desperate in earnest, soyou promise me. "

Daisy's face had grown deadly white, her breath came in gasps, hereyes were fixed on the cruel man. 

"You promise me, miss?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Dove. "

"That's right, missy. Now you say these words after me:--'Mr. Dove, Ipromise never to tell as you came up to my room to give me the nicesweeties. I'll never tell nobody in all the wide world, so help me, God. '"

"Oh, I don't like that last part, " said little Daisy. "I'll sayit--I'll say all the words, only not the last ones, and I'll keep mypromise as true as true; only please, please, please, Mr. Dove, don'task me to say the last words, for I don't think it's quite reverent tosay them just to keep a secret about sweeties. "

"Well, missy, as you please. Now put your hands in mine, and say allthe other words. "

Daisy did so. 

"That's right, miss; now my mind's easy. I have got your promise, miss, and I'll keep the little birds a-watching to find out if everyou go near to breathing it. There's a dark cellar, too, most handyfor them children who turn out to be Dove's enemies, and _you_ knowwhere the people who tell lies go to. Now, good-bye, miss--eat up yoursweeties. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

A DELIGHTFUL PLAN. 

Neither Primrose nor Jasmine could quite understand their littlesister that night--her cold was worse, but that fact Primroseaccounted for by Jasmine's imprudence in taking her out; but whatneither she nor Jasmine could understand was Daisy's greatnervousness--her shrinking fear of being left for a moment by herself, and the worried and anxious look which had settled down on her usuallyquiet little face. Primrose determined to do what she had never doneyet since they had come to London--she would commit the unheard-ofextravagance of calling in a doctor. 

"I think Daisy is very feverish, " she said to Jasmine; "only that itseems impossible, I would say she has got some kind of shock, and wastrying to conceal something. You are quite sure that you locked thedoor when you left her alone here this afternoon, Jasmine?"

"Oh, yes, " answered Jasmine, "and I found it locked all right when Icame back. I was rather longer away than I meant to be, for I did sucha venturesome thing, Primrose--I took my 'Ode to Adversity' to theEditor of _The Downfall_. I saw him, too--he was a red-faced man, withsuch a loud voice, and he didn't seem at all melancholy--he said hewould look at the poem, but he wasn't _very_ encouraging. I told himwhat Mrs. Dove said about his readers liking tearful things, and hegave quite a rude laugh; however, I shouldn't be surprised if the poemwas taken; if it fails in that quarter, I must only try one of thevery best magazines. Oh, what was I saying about Daisy? I think shewas asleep when I came back--she was lying very quiet, only her cheekswere rather flushed. Of course, Primrose, nothing happened to ourlittle Daisy; if there did, she would tell us. "

"I will send for the doctor, at any rate, " said Primrose; "I don'tlike her look. I will send for the doctor, and--and--"

But Primrose's brave voice broke, and she turned her face away. 

Jasmine ran up to her, and put her arms round her neck. 

"What is it, Rose darling?--are you really troubled about Daisy? orare you thinking of the expense? I wonder what a London doctor willcharge? Have you got any money to pay him, Primrose?"

"I've got Mr. Danesfield's money, " said Primrose; "I have always keptit for an emergency. I had hoped never to need it, but if the realemergency comes it is right to spend it. Yes, Jasmine, I can pay thedoctor and you had better go down and ask the Doves the name of one, for I don't know a single doctor in London. "

"Yes, " said Jasmine, "I'll run down at once. "

Mr. And Mrs. Dove were greatly concerned when they heard of Daisy'sillness--in especial, Mr. Dove was concerned, and expressed himselfwilling to do all in his power for the sweet, pretty little lady. Hesaid he knew a doctor of the name of Jones, who was a dab hand withchildren, and if the young ladies liked he would run round to Dr. Jones's house, and fetch him in at once. 

Jasmine thought Mr. Dove very good-natured, and she expressed hergreat gratitude to him for the trouble he was about to take, andrequested him to seek Dr. Jones and to bring him to see Daisy withouta moment's delay. Accordingly, in a very short time the doctor ofDove's selection stood by Daisy's bedside and pronounced her to besuffering from nothing whatever but a common cold, ordered somemedicine for her cough, and went away with the assurance that shewould be as cheerful as ever on the morrow. But Daisy was not cheerfulthe next day; and day after day passed without bringing back eitherher sweet calm, or any of the brightness which used to characterizeher little face. Daisy possessed in a certain degree Primrose'scharacteristics, but she was naturally more highly strung and morenervous than her eldest sister. After a little time her cold gotbetter, but her nightly terrors, the look of watchfulness and anxiety, grew and deepened as the time wore on. Daisy's sweet little face wasaltering, and Primrose at last resolved to dismiss Dr. Jones, who wasdoing the child no good whatever, and to consult Miss Egerton aboutthe little one. It may be added that Primrose was able to pay Dr. Jones's account without breaking into Mr. Danesfield's money. 

Miss Egerton from the very first had taken a great interest in thegirls, and when Primrose went to her, and told her pitiful littlestory, the kind governess's eyes filled with tears. 

"My dear, " she said, in conclusion, "whatever is or is not the matterwith that nice little sister of yours, I am sure she wants one thing, and that is change. Now, I am not so greatly taken with those rooms ofyours, Primrose. You remember I paid you a visit at Christmas, and youtried to show me all the beauties of your apartments. They wereneatly kept, dear, and were clean, and were furnished with somelittle attempt at taste, but the ceilings were very low, the windowsashes fitted badly, and there was such a draught from under thedoor--and, my dear child, now that you have come to me in confidence Imay as well tell you that I did _not_ admire your landlady Mrs. Dove. "

"She is rather fond of borrowing money, certainly, " said Primrose, in a thoughtful voice, "but on the whole I believe she isgood-natured--she lends Jasmine books, and yesterday she baked a cakeherself for Daisy, and her husband brought it up to her. "

"All the same, " repeated Miss Egerton, "I don't admire the woman. Ihave never seen the man; but I would rather you were in a nice house. Now I have a proposal to make. I too have got some attics--they arequite as large as Mrs. Dove's, and can soon be made as cheerful. I canalso promise you that the windows will not shake, nor will a draughtas keen as a knife come in from under the door. My attics, however, Igrieve to say, are unfurnished. Now, my dear, what do you pay at Mrs. Dove's?"

"Twelve shillings a week, " said Primrose. 

"That is a great deal for such rooms; I knew you were being imposedupon. Now, I would let you have mine for five, only somehow or otheryou must contrive to help me to furnish them. I can give you a carpetfor your sitting-room, and a warm rug for your bedroom floor, and Ibelieve I can supply you with bedsteads and beds, and there is afamous deep cupboard in the sitting-room, and two in the bedroom whereyou could easily keep all your clothes; but do you think you couldprovide the rest of the furniture? I would help you to get it as cheapas possible and would show you how to make old things look like new;for, my dear, I've gone through the contriving experience a long timeago. Now what do you say to my plan? You will not be cheated, you willbe cared for, and you will be in the house of a friend--for I want tobe your friend, my dear girl. "

"Oh, how kind you are!" said Primrose, her eyes glistening. "Yes, youknow how to give real help--the kind of help we girls want. I shouldlove your plan, but I must try and find out if we really have themoney. How much money will it take to put in very simplefurniture--just enough for us to go on with, Miss Egerton?"

"You might manage it for ten pounds, dear, perhaps even for less, ifyou have that sum by you; you will soon save it in your lowered rent. Go home, and think it over, Primrose. I know Daisy will be much, muchbetter in my house than at the Doves'. Go and think about it, and letme know what you decide to-morrow. "

Primrose thanked Miss Egerton, and went back to her lodgings with afull heart. This offer from so good a friend had come, she felt, atthe right moment. Accept it she must; find the ten pounds she must;and once again she thought with a feeling of satisfaction of Mr. Danesfield's letter, and felt glad that she had been able to pay Dr. Jones's bill without breaking into its contents. 

She went upstairs, and instantly told Jasmine of the proposed change. 

"But we can't do it, " said Jasmine; "you know that we have not tenpounds to spare. "

"I think, " said Primrose, "that perhaps the time has come when weshould open that letter Mr. Danesfield put into my hand the morning weleft Rosebury. You know, Jasmine, how we determined to keep it, andreturn it to him unopened some day if we possibly could; but we alsoresolved to use it if a time of necessity really came--we resolved notto be proud about this. You know, Jasmine, it has come over me morethan once lately that I have been headstrong in coming to London, onlyI could not endure being dependent on any one. "

"Of course you could not, darling, " said Jasmine. "I am certain youhave done right; of course we are rather depressed now withdifficulties, but I think yours was a grand plan. I have a kind offeeling, Primrose, that our worst days are over; I think it more thanprobable you will have a great run on your china-painting bye-and-bye, and if _The Downfall_ and the other magazines begin to wish for mypoetry, why, of course, I shall earn two or three guineas a week. I amtold that a guinea is not at all a large sum for a good poem, and Ihave no doubt I could write two or three a week; and then my novel--itis really going to be very good. Mr. Dove says that he would recommendme to put it in a newspaper first, and then offer it to a publisher tobring out as a book. I said I would only let my first work appear in avery high-class newspaper. I never much cared for newspaper stories, but I might put up with one of the illustrated weekly papers if itpaid me well. Yes, Primrose, I feel hopeful; and I have not thesmallest doubt that we can earn the ten pounds for our furniture veryquickly, so let us borrow the money out of Mr. Danesfield's letter. But Rose, darling, how do you know there is any money in the letter?You have never opened it and you can't see inside. "

"I've never opened it, certainly, " said Primrose, "but from a hint Mr. Danesfield gave me on the last day I saw him, I believe there arethree five-pound notes in the letter. Of course I am not sure, but Iam nearly sure. "

"Well, let us get the letter and open it, " said Jasmine, "and then ourminds will be at rest. Oh! there is Daisy waking out of her nice nap. Daisy, darling, would you not like to go and live at Miss Egerton's?You know you are fond of Miss Egerton, and she is turning out a verykind friend. Won't you like to live always in her nice house, Daisylove?"

Daisy's little face had flushed painfully when Jasmine began to talk, now it turned white, and her lips trembled. 

"Are there--are there any little birds there?" she asked. 

"Oh, Eyebright, what a silly question! Primrose had she not betterhave her beef-tea. I think Miss Egerton keeps a canary, but I am notsure. "

"I'd rather not have any little birds about, " said Daisy, with greatemphasis, "and I'd greatly, greatly love to go. I like Miss Egerton. When shall we go, Primrose?"

"In a day or two, " said Primrose. "We have just got to buy a littlefurniture, and I'm going to open my trunk now, and get a letter outwhich I know has money in it. Yes, we'll very soon go away from here, darling, and Miss Egerton has thought of this delightful planentirely to please you. She says you will be much, much better whenyou are out of this house. Oh, Daisy! how bright your eyes look, andhow pleased you seem. "

"Yes, " said Daisy, "I am delighted; we need never walk down thisstreet again, need we, Primrose? and we need never to have anything tosay to the Doves, most particularly to Mr. Dove; not but that he'svery kind, and he's--oh, yes! he's my friend; yes, of course he toldme he was my friend, but we needn't ever see him again, ever, _ever_again, Primrose, darling?"

"Oh, Daisy! what a funny child you are! If Mr. Dove is your friend, why should you not wish to see him? He is not my friend, however;indeed, I may say frankly that I don't like him at all. Now drink upyour beef-tea, darling. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE POOR DOVES. 

The next morning early Primrose opened her trunk, and unlocking acertain little morocco case, which contained her mother's letter abouther lost brother, one or two trinkets which had belonged to that samemother, and Mr. Danesfield's envelope, she took the latter out of thecase, and slipped it into her pocket. After breakfast she went roundto see Miss Egerton. 

"An old friend, " she said, "in the village where we lived--I wouldrather not say his name--gave me this. I believe it contains money. Ihave a kind of idea that it contains three bank notes for £5 each. Ihave never opened it, and I never wish to. I meant to return it someday to this kind friend--yes, I know he meant to be very kind. This iswhat he has written on the outside of the envelope. "

Miss Egerton read aloud--"When you want me, use me; don't return me, and never abuse me. "

"There must be money here, my dear, " she said. 

"Yes, I know there is money, " said Primrose, "for he wanted to pressfifteen pounds on me when I went to say good-bye; but I was too proudto accept it, so now I think he has thought of this way of helping us. We could buy our furniture out of some of that money, Miss Egerton. "

"Quite so, dear, " said Miss Egerton, in a very cheerful voice. "Giveme the letter, Primrose, and I will put it carefully away for you; youneed not open it just at this moment. I will order just as littlefurniture as possible, and have it sent in to-day, and then when thebill comes you shall pay out of this envelope. I should not besurprised if we did our furnishing for seven pounds; I thought of somany nice, cheap little expedients last night. Now go home, dear, andcome to me again in the evening, and I will tell you what I have done. I have no doubt I can have your rooms ready by to-morrow; is Daisypleased at the idea of coming?"

"Yes, she is delighted, " said Primrose; "her dear little face quitechanged when I spoke about it. I am sure you are right, Miss Egerton, and the change will do her lots of good. "

"I mean to make your attics quite charming, " said Miss Egerton. "Theyshall be converted into a kind of beautiful palace for my brave youngworkers. Yes, Primrose, I admire your spirit, and if I can do anythingto aid you three girls to conquer fate, I will. "

The moment her school duties were over Miss Egerton went out. Shevisited certain shops that she knew of--queer little, quaint, out-of-the-way shops--quite pokey little places; but from their depthsshe managed to extract one or two round tables, one or twoeasy-chairs, a few brackets, which could be easily converted intobook-shelves, a certain sofa, with not too hard a back, a couple offenders, some fire-irons, some cups and saucers, some dinner plates. These and a few more necessary articles she bought for what would haveseemed a ridiculously low figure to any one who was not in her secret. The furniture was all conveyed to her neat little house thatafternoon, and there it was absolutely pounced upon by her willing andhard-working servant who washed it, and scrubbed it, and rubbed it, and polished it; and, finally, Miss Egerton purchased bright chintz, and slipped it over the ugly little chairs, and covered up theantiquated old sofa, and that very night a certain amount of her workwas got through, and the attics began already to look habitable. 

"I mean to do a great deal more, " thought Miss Egerton; "fortunatelythe paper is fresh and the paint clean; but I must put up two or threepictures, and I shall fill these book-shelves with the books I used tolove when I was young. My own white sheep-skin rug shall go in frontof the fire. Daisy will like to see the Pink curling down into thedepths of that sheep-skin. Ah, yes! the girls shall have a goodtime--a cosy, home-like time--in these rooms, if I can give it tothem. "

Then Miss Egerton went downstairs to meet Primrose with a smile abouther thin lips, and a serene, beautiful light in her kind eyes. 

"They are getting ready--the rooms are beginning to look charming, dear, " she said. "Oh no, you must not see them yet. It is my fancy notto show them to you until they are quite ready, and I fear that won'tbe until the day after to-morrow; but to-morrow, Primrose, you andJasmine and little Daisy may occupy yourselves packing your trunks. "

"It all sounds delightful, " said Primrose. "You cannot think, MissEgerton, how cheered we all are at the thought of coming to you. As toDaisy, I simply should not know her--she is a changed child. I toldthe Doves that we were leaving as I went out this afternoon. Theylooked rather cross, and Mrs. Dove asked for a week's rent, instead ofthe usual notice. But I can manage to pay that nicely. I won't staynow, dear Miss Egerton. I'm going round to see Mr. Jones about theplates he was to try and sell for me, and then I shall hurry back toDaisy. "

"Take her this fresh egg and this little sponge-loaf for her supper, "said Miss Egerton. "Now good-bye, dear. God bless you, dear!"

"It is wonderful what kind friends we girls seem to meet at everyturn, " thought Primrose to herself, as she hurried down the dirty, sloppy street. "It would be very strange if we did not succeed with somany people wishing us well. Oh! I feel in good spirits to-night. Evenif Mr. Jones has not sold the plates I shall not complain. "

Mr. Jones assured his industrious pupil when she entered his darklittle shop that he had "all but" got a customer for her. The customerwas a wealthy old gentleman, who had a passion for collecting china, and, in special, liked the work of beginners. The old gentleman hadlooked at Primrose's plates, and had said that they were very fine, and had a certain crudity or freshness about them, which, for hispart, he took to; and if she had three or four more lessons he feltmorally certain that he would purchase her wares. 

"He's a splendid customer, but he was most explicit on the point ofmore lessons, Miss Mainwaring, " said Mr. Jones. 

"But you have found me so many 'all but' customers who just wished meto have a few more lessons, Mr. Jones, " said Primrose, smiling sadly. 

"None like the present man--none like the present man, my dear younglady, " answered Mr. Jones, rubbing his fat hands softly together. "Aman who likes crudity, and calls it freshness, ain't to be found everyday of the week, Miss Mainwaring. "

Primrose admitted this fact, and, bidding her teacher good evening, without committing herself to any definite promise of taking furtherlessons, she turned her steps homewards. Even Mr. Jones had scarcelypower to depress her to-night. She felt brave and bright, and all heryouth made itself manifest in her springing, elastic step. Now thatshe was about to leave them, she felt horrified at the thought ofhaving lived so long with the Doves. Her sense of relief at thethought of making her home with Miss Egerton was greater than shecould express. 

She entered the house, and came upstairs singing a gay air under herbreath. 

At the door of their attics she was met by Jasmine. 

"Oh, Primrose! I have been watching for you. I am so glad you havecome. I cannot think what is the matter with Daisy. "

"With Daisy?" echoed Primrose; "but I left her so bright two hoursago. "

"She was bright an hour ago, Primrose; she was sitting on the floorwith the Pink in her arms, and laughing and chatting. I put on mybonnet, and left her alone for about ten minutes while I ran roundthe corner to get what we wanted for our supper, and when I came backshe was sitting with her hands straight before her in her lap, and thePink standing by her side, and looking into her face and mewing andDaisy not taking a scrap of notice, but with her eyes fixed straightin front of her in quite a dreadful way. When I went up to her andtouched her, she began to shiver, and then to cry, and then she said, 'oh Jasmine! we can't go away from here--we can't; oh, we can't! Wemustn't do it, Jasmine; we must stay here always, always!'"

"Poor little darling!" said Primrose. "She must have had a bad dream;certainly Miss Egerton is right, and her nerves are very much shakenand she wants change as soon as possible. Is she in the bedroom, Jasmine?"

"Yes. "

"Will you cook the supper, and I will go to her?"

Jasmine nodded, and Primrose went straight into the other room. Herlittle sister had once more flown to the Pink for consolation; she washolding the little animal tightly in her arms, and was rocking herselfbackwards and forwards, and sobbing under her breath. 

Primrose knelt down by her. 

"What is it, my own little darling?" she asked. 

"Oh, nothing, Primrose, " said poor little Daisy, raising hertear-stained face; "nothing really, dear Primrose, only I don't liketo leave the poor Doves. "

"Oh, is that all?" said Primrose, in a very cheerful tone. "Why, Daisy, you did not at all mind leaving them a couple of days ago; butif you are really fond of them you can still see them occasionally, for we are not going far away. "

"I don't wish to leave the poor Doves, " repeated Daisy, bending downover the Pink, and her tears falling afresh. 

"But, Daisy dear, how very funny of you to speak like this! You know, darling, you must allow Jasmine and me to decide for you; we feel thatyou will be much happier and much more comfortable with Mrs. Egerton. Come, Daisy, these tears are very bad for you in your weak state. Letme wash your face and hands, and take you into the other room to anice surprise supper sent by Miss Egerton. "

But Daisy only shook her head, and bent lower over her cat, andrepeated over, and over, and over:

"I can't go away from Mr. And Mrs. Dove. "

Poor Primrose became really alarmed at last. 

"Daisy, " she said, "there must be some reason for this sudden changein your wishes. You were quite delighted at the thought of going toMiss Egerton's an hour ago, when Jasmine was here; Jasmine went out, and when she came back she found you in this state. Did you seeanybody while Jasmine was out?"

"N--n--no--I mean--I mean I can't say. Don't ask me, Primrose. Oh, Primrose, I'm such a miserable little girl! but please, please, pleasedon't take me away from the poor Doves. "

Daisy cried herself nearly into hysterics, and Primrose had at last topacify her by assuring her that they were not going away from theDoves just yet. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 

All through her dreams that night Daisy sobbed and moaned. Primrose, lying awake by her side, felt more and more alarmed and concerned. What was the matter with her little sister? She felt completelypuzzled. The bright little castle in the air she and Jasmine had beenbuilding; the cheerful thought of the cosy rooms which the girls wereto share together in their friend's house; the dear delight of havingfurniture of their very own again; all these very healthful andnatural dreams were fading and fading, for whenever Primrose evenalluded to their leaving their present quarters Daisy clutched herhand, and looked at her with such pleading eyes, and used hurriedwords of such anguished entreaty, that at last the eldest sister feltobliged to say--

"We will stay where we are, Daisy, until you wish to leave. "

Then the poor little thin face relaxed into a wan smile, the lidsdrooped over the tired blue eyes, and the child slept morepeacefully. 

When Primrose felt her head, however, it was feverish, and her littlehands burned to the touch. She went into the next room and calledJasmine. 

"Jasmine, " she said, "I am going round to Mrs. Egerton's; I am goingto tell her all about Daisy's alarm and terror. I am going to consulther, for I know she means to be a good friend to us. Jasmine, promiseme one thing--don't leave Daisy alone while I am out. I cannot in theleast understand how it happened, but I feel sure she must have gotsome fright when you were out last night. "

"Oh, she couldn't have, " answered Jasmine--"I locked the door afterme. I never leave Daisy alone without locking the door. I won't leaveher now, of course, Primrose--I will take my little writing tableclose to her bedside, and if she wakes I can read her a part of mynovel. "

Primrose gave one or two more directions, and then hurried out, andJasmine, after she had washed up the breakfast things, and put thelittle sitting-room perfectly tidy, moved her small writing-table intothe bedroom, and sat down by Daisy's side. She was in the scribblingstage of her great work, and with her head bent low, her cheeksflushed, and her fingers much stained with ink, was writing away withgreat rapidity, when she was startled by some very earnest words fromthe little sleeper. 

"Oh, no, indeed, Mr. Dove--oh no, you may be quite certain. I knowwhere I'd go if I told a lie, of course, Mr. Dove. Yes, yes, you aremy friend, and I'm your friend--yes, yes. "

"Daisy, do wake up, " said Jasmine; "you are talking such rubbish aboutMr. Dove, and about telling lies, and Mr. Dove being your friend--openyour eyes, Daisy, and let me give you such a nice little breakfast. "

"Is that you, Jasmine?" said Daisy--"I thought you were Mr. Dove--Iwas asleep, and I was dreaming. "

"Yes, Eyebright, and talking in your dreams, " said Jasmine, stoopingdown and kissing her. 

Daisy held one of Jasmine's hands very tightly. 

"Did I say anything, Jasmine--anything that you shouldn'thear--anything about--about sticky sweetmeats, Jasmine?"

"No, you silly pet, not a word. Now sit up in bed, and let me give youyour breakfast. Daisy, I really do think my novel is going to be agreat success. I am going to put Mr. Dove into it, and Mrs. Dove, andTommy Dove, and our dear old Poppy, and of course ourselves. Onereason why I feel so confident that the novel will be a success isthat _all_ the characters will be sketched from the life. "

"But please don't put in about the Doves, " said Daisy. "I think theyare such dread--I mean, of course, they are my friends, particularlyMr. Dove, he's my real, real friend, but I mean that I don't thinkthey'd come well into a book, Jasmine--I don't think they're bookpeople a bit--book people should be princes and knights and lovelyladies, and there should be no houses, and no attics, only there mightbe fairy palaces, and all the little girls should be happy, and keptsafe from ogres--the little girls in the books shouldn't even have anogre for a friend. Oh, Jasmine, Jasmine! I'm so very miserable!"

Daisy again broke into weak sobs, and poor Jasmine could scarcelysoothe her. 

A little before noon Primrose and Miss Egerton, and a tall, grave, kind-looking man, who went by the name of Dr. Griffiths, and was agreat friend of Miss Egerton's, came up the stairs. 

Both Dove and his wife saw them go, and Dove shook his hand at Dr. Griffiths, as that gentleman walked up the stairs. They all three wentinto the attics, and the doctor had a long talk with the littlepatient--he felt her pulse and her head, and looked into her eyes, andtried to induce her to laugh, and did succeed in getting one littlestartled and half-frightened sound from the child; then he went backinto the sitting-room, and had a long talk with Primrose and MissEgerton. The upshot of this was that Miss Egerton went sorrowfullyaway, for the doctor absolutely forbade the girls to move from theirpresent quarters for another week or fortnight. At the end of thattime he said Daisy would be better, and might have got over thefoolish fancy which now troubled her, but for the time being she mustbe yielded to, and at any risk kept easy in her mind. 

Miss Egerton went very sorrowfully away, and upstairs to the rooms shemeant to make so pretty. 

"There is no special hurry about the furnishing, Bridget, " she said toher servant. "Little Miss Daisy is too ill to be moved for thepresent. "

"The men have come round to be paid for the bits of furniture, leastways, ma'am, " answered Bridget, "and the foreman from the othershop is standing in the hall, and wants to know if you'll settle withhim now, or if he shall call again. "

"I'll settle with him now, Bridget. Dear Miss Primrose left some moneyin my charge yesterday morning, and I can pay the man at once. "

One of the rules of Miss Egerton's life was never to leave a billunpaid for twenty-four hours, if possible--she hated accounts, andalways paid ready money for everything. She now ran downstairs, andunlocking her desk, took out Mr. Danesfield's envelope. Primrose hadbegged of her to open it when the bills came in, and pay for thefurniture--Primrose seemed to have an absolute prejudice againstunfastening that envelope herself. 

Miss Egerton opened it slowly now, smiling as she did so at the quaintinscription on the cover. A folded sheet of paper lay within--shespread the paper before her, expecting to see the three five-poundnotes folded within its leaves--blankness and emptiness alone met herview--no money was inside the envelope--the whole thing was a cruelfraud. The poor governess fairly gasped for breath--there lay the billfor six pounds nineteen shillings which she had incurred, making surethat she could meet it out of Primrose's money. Primrose had spoken soconfidently about her little nest-egg, and behold, she had notany!--the envelope was a fraud--the girl had been subjected to a cruelpractical joke. 

Miss Egerton was extremely poor--it was with the utmost difficulty shecould make two ends meet. She thought hard for a minute--then her browcleared, and she rose to her feet. 

"Better I than those orphan girls!" she said, under her breath, andthen she went to her desk again, and filled in a cheque for theamount. 

"I can do without my winter cloak, and my black merino dress will lastme for some weeks longer if I sponge it with cold tea, and re-line thetail, " she said to herself. "Any little privation is better than tohurt the hearts of the orphan girls. "

She paid the man, who signed the receipt, and then she let him outherself. As she did so a young man came hastily up the steps--he had abright face, and running up to the governess, he seized both her handsin his. 

"Oh, Arthur, how glad I am to see you!" said Miss Egerton. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A BLESSING. 

Miss Egerton took Arthur Noel--for it was he--straight back into herlittle sitting-room, and sitting down on her worn little horse-hairsofa, and raising her eyes anxiously to the young man's face, she toldhim the story of the attic upstairs, of the furniture she hadpurchased, of the girls she had meant to serve. She showed him, withhands that trembled, the envelope with its queer inscription, and sheunfolded for his benefit the empty sheet of blank paper. She told herstory at once without any reservation, even relating with a littlehasty blush how she felt obliged to pay for the furniture herself. 

Perhaps Arthur Noel was the only person in the world to whom she wouldhave made this confession; for she was one of those who made it apractice never to let her right hand know what her left did, but shehad known Arthur from his boyhood, and he was one of those men whoinspire trust and sympathy at a glance. 

He listened to the story with interest, and even excitement--he wasnaturally enthusiastic, but even Miss Egerton had never seen him soperturbed and so moved as he was at present. 

"I know about those girls, " he said at last; "what are their names?--Iam sure I know about them. Nay, let me ask you a question--Is not onecalled Jasmine? Has she not a piquant face, and very soft and yetbright eyes, and a great lot of curly brown hair? Yes, Miss Egerton, Iam sure the girls you speak of are in a certain sense _my_ girls; forif they are the ones I mean I took them under my protection long ago. "

"Their name is Mainwaring. My dear Arthur, where and how have you metthem? My dear boy, I fully believe, I have always believed, in yourgood intentions, in your wish to do your utmost for every one; but ifyou have really known Primrose, and Jasmine and Daisy, and have takenthem, as you say, under your protection, I must say that of late youhave lost sight of them--you have not been as kind as you generallyare to people in difficulties, for I never met three more absolutelyfriendless girls than these. "

"It was a good Providence sent me here this morning, " said Noel. "Youare quite right, Miss Egerton; I did lose sight of the children. Itried to follow them, but they managed to hide themselves mosteffectually. Think of my coming up to see you this morning, with amessage from Mrs. Ellsworthy, and finding that our lost lambs are allbut safe in your kind fold. How relieved my dear mother-friend willbe!"

"Mrs. Ellsworthy is the kindest and best of women, " said Miss Egerton;"I will receive your message presently, Arthur, but you puzzle me moreand more when you tell me that she too knows my girls. I came acrossthem quite accidentally. They called to ask me to give Jasmine lessonsin English composition, and I took a fancy to them, and, inparticular, felt drawn to the little one--for she reminded me of--, but no matter! The girls have been in and out of my house ever since. I saw that they were fearfully independent, but in many trivial ways Itried to help them. Well, Arthur, it is most surprising--it isaltogether incomprehensible, but never during the months we have beenseeing each other daily have they alluded to you or the Ellsworthys. They seemed perfectly unconstrained, and chatted many times of theircottage home in the country, but they never spoke of the Ellsworthys. "

"They would not be likely to do, " answered Noel. "I think, MissEgerton, I must now tell you Mrs. Ellsworthy's and my side of thestory. "

Certainly Miss Egerton appeared to neglect her duties that morning;fortunately, her school had not yet re-opened, but Bridget waited fororders, and the tradesman left the house unattended to. Bridget knewthat Miss Egerton was always greatly taken up with Mr. Noel, and shehad to admit that he was a bonny-looking young man with a pleasantface; but Bridget hitherto had given her mistress credit for alwaysputting duty before pleasure. What, therefore, did her present neglectof household management mean?

Arthur Noel had a long story to tell, and Miss Egerton listened, weighing each point, and not giving too undue sympathy to eitherparty. Noel was of course enthusiastic in Mrs. Ellsworthy's cause, andannounced his intention of going to see her that very day. 

"She is in town, " he said; "and if you give me the girls' address Ican bring her to them this afternoon. "

But here Miss Egerton laid her thin hand on the young man's arm. 

"No, Arthur, I won't betray their secret, poor little dears! they mayhave been headstrong, and silly, and rash, and, poor children, theymay fail utterly, but they have not failed yet by any means, and ifthey wish not to be tempted into a luxurious and dependent life, evenby the kindest friend, I, for one, will stand by them. You have comeon me by accident, Arthur, and have learned about the girls byaccident; you have no right to tell what you have thus discovered. Ihave studied those girls' characters and I know that Primrose at leastwould die of a broken heart if her independence were taken from her. No, Arthur; if you wish really to help them you must put them in theway of earning their own living, and in this manner the Ellsworthyscan doubtless assist, for they are rich, and have influence. "

Then Miss Egerton and her guest had another long and earnestdiscussion, at the end of which time a compromise was arrived at. Noelmight tell the Ellsworthys that he and Miss Egerton knew where thegirls lived, and the Ellsworthys might give in-direct help by aidinghim in his efforts to find suitable work for Primrose and Jasmine--hetoo, could be their open and acknowledged friend, and he arranged withMiss Egerton to call and see them that very afternoon. 

Finally, Miss Egerton again drew his attention to the envelope, whichwas only given to mock, as it contained nothing but blank paper. 

Noel examined it carefully. 

"This must have been given to the girls by Mr. Danesfield, the bankerat Rosebury, " he said. "I know him well; he is the last person whowould play them such a trick. Don't you think, Miss Egerton it isquite possible that this envelope may have been opened, and the moneyremoved?"

"But the envelope does not look tampered with, " answered Miss Egerton, turning it round, and examining it carefully. 

"Thieves are very clever, " answered Noel. "It is easy to open anenvelope by holding it over steaming water. "

"But Primrose always kept this letter locked up in her trunk. "

"Well, I will settle the point by writing direct, and in strictconfidence, to Mr. Danesfield. In the meantime let us say nothing toMiss Mainwaring; and you will let me pay for the furniture, kindfriend. "

But Miss Egerton's face flushed brightly, and she drew back a step ortwo. 

"No, my dear boy, I cannot. Since I drew that cheque I have feltstrangely happy. I think this very small act of self-denial will bringme a blessing, and I don't wish to be deprived of it. Good-bye, Arthur; come to see me again at three, and I will take you to mygirls. "

CHAPTER XXX. 

VOICE OF THE PRINCE. 

Daisy felt quite certain that the Prince had come. Jasmine greeted herold friend of St. Paul's Cathedral with sparkling eyes and effusivewords of welcome. Primrose, too, was very pleased to see any one whobrought such a contented look into Daisy's little face, for the childasked herself to sit in his arms, and laying her head on his shoulder, she listened with pleasure to some wonderful fairy stories which herelated. While Noel was by, Daisy seemed quite to forget her nervousfancies--she even spoke confidentially of ogres who tried to makethemselves friendly, and she asked Arthur, with a very puzzled, anxious face, if a little girl, who was so unfortunate as to have anogre for a friend, could ever get rid of him. 

"Oh, yes; he might turn into an enemy, " answered Arthur. 

But here poor Daisy shuddered violently, and turned very white. 

"No, no, " she said; "not into an enemy, never into an enemy, dear Mr. Arthur. "

"What matter is it to you, little maid?" answered Arthur cheerily, though he regarded her with very keen observation. "There is no ogregoing to trouble you as either friend or enemy; If he does he willhave to meet me. I am the Prince, you know, and my mission in life isto slay the wicked ogres. "

"Oh! but his poor wife and his children!" half sobbed Daisy; "couldn'tyou lock him up in a tower, dear Prince?"

Arthur smiled, and gradually managed to lead the child's thoughts intoanother direction. He was already gaining the greatest possibleinfluence over her, and he managed, on the occasion of his secondvisit, to coax her to let him carry her across to Miss Egerton's for acouple of hours. Dove met them as Arthur was carrying the child away, and he first scowled, and then smiled obsequiously. Daisy turneddeadly white, and Noel felt that she trembled. 

[Illustration: DOVE MET THEM. Palace B]

"I'm coming back to-night, Mr. Dove, " she called out, in a shakylittle voice; and Dove answered--

"Pleased to hear it, missy; the attics would be lonesome without you, missy. "

"Daisy, " whispered Noel, "tell me something--is Dove the ogre?"

"Oh, don't, don't, Mr. Prince!" answered back the child. "No, no, ofcourse not; why, he's only poor Mr. Dove--a friend of mine. "

When Daisy reached Miss Egerton's and found herself seated in thatlady's cosy little drawing-room, with sponge-cakes _ad libitum_ toeat, and Noel sitting by and willing to give up all his time to herbenefit, she cheered up wonderfully; a faint color came to her whitelittle cheeks, and Miss Egerton, as she passed the open drawing-roomdoor, heard one or two silvery peals of laughter coming from her lips. 

"Bless the child!" thought the kind woman; "how much better she iswhen she is out of that house. What nice influence that good fellow, Arthur, has over her. I do trust the silly little one will soon giveup her fancies--for they surely can be nothing but fancies--and cometo live with me. "

But when the twilight fell Daisy ceased to laugh, the anxious andtroubled look returned to her face, and after a time she said toArthur, in her pretty coaxing way--

"Take me home now, please, Mr. Prince. "

Two days afterwards Noel called at the girls' lodgings Daisy alone wasin, but to all his entreaties she now turned a deaf ear. No, she didnot want to go out; she would rather stay in her own dear, nice oldattics; she was never so happy anywhere as in her own attics. She wasvery fond of Miss Egerton, but she did not think she would like tolive with her. Miss Egerton kept a bird, and Daisy had a greatdislike to birds. 

"Please, Mr. Prince, " she said, in conclusion, "stay with me here foran hour or two, and tell me a beautiful story. "

Noel was rather clever at making up impromptu stories, and he nowproceeded to relate a tale with a moral. 

"There was a kind lady who had prepared lovelyguest-chambers--beautiful they were, and worthy of a palace. "

Here Noel stopped, and looked hard at his little listener. 

"Do you know why they were so lovely, little maid?"

"No; please tell me, Mr. Prince. Oh, I am sure this is going to be areal true fairy tale--how delicious!" and Daisy leaned back on hersofa with a sigh of content. 

"The rooms were beautiful, Daisy, " continued Arthur "because the wallswere papered with Goodness and the chairs, and the tables, and thecarpets, and the sofas, and the thousand-and-one little knick-knacks, were placed in the rooms by Self-Denial, and the windows were polishedvery brightly by Love herself, and she kept the key which opened thechamber doors. "

"How sweet!" said Daisy. 

"Yes; there were two rooms, and they were very sweet. To live theremeant to get into an abode of peace. As to ogres, they would fall downdead on the threshold of such rooms. There were only two, and theywere up high in a small house, and without the gilding and the glorywhich I spoke of they would have seemed humble enough, but to thosewho knew their secret, and what their owner had done for her expectedguests, they appeared a very Palace Beautiful. Now, Daisy, I must tellyou something so sad. The rooms were ready, but the guests did notarrive. Three guests were expected, but the kind lady who had preparedthe rooms, who had papered them with Goodness, and furnished them withSelf-Denial, and brightened them with Love, waited and longed for hervisitors in vain. 

"Two of the visitors were most anxious to come, but one--a littleone--although she looked very gentle and had a sweet expression andblue eyes, and seemed quite the sort of little girl who would notwillingly hurt a fly, held back. It never entered into her head thatshe was selfish, and was making two or three people who loved her bothanxious and unhappy. She preferred to live in rooms which, bycomparison, were like dungeons; for the owners had never put Love intothem, and had never thought of Self-Denial in connection with them. There, Daisy-flower, I have done. It seems a pity that the little girlshould have been so selfish, does it not?"

"But how does the story end, Mr. Arthur? You have really only justbegun. "

"I only know the beginning, Daisy, " said Noel, as he rose to leave. "Ihave not an idea whether that Palace Beautiful will ever receive itsvisitors, whether that kind lady will ever be made happy, or whetherthat little girl will ever cease to be selfish. "

A few moments afterwards Noel went away, and poor Daisy turned herface to the wall and wept. 

Of course, the very obvious moral had hit her hard, poor little maid!Oh! if she could really only confide in Arthur--he was so nice andstrong, and he looked so contemptuously at Mr. Dove that day when hewas carrying Daisy across the road to Miss Egerton's. 

"I don't believe he would be afraid of Mr. Dove, " she whisperedsoftly, under her breath. "Oh dear! why am I so terribly frightened?Why does he make my heart beat? and why do I shake so when I see him?Well, I'll never tell about his bringing me up the stickysweetmeats--of course I'll not tell. I promised I wouldn't; it wouldbe dreadful to break one's promise. Of course I know where people gowho break their promises. No, I promised Mr. Dove, and I must always, and always, and always keep my word; but I did not promise him thatI'd stay here. He wanted me to, and I just had it on the tip of mytongue, for I was dreadfully frightened, but he heard a noise, and hewent away. I'm so glad I didn't promise, because the Prince says Ishould go and live in the Palace Beautiful. He thinks I'm a selfishlittle girl. Oh dear! how terrified I shall be, but I won't be aselfish little girl, and keep Primrose and Jasmine away from thePalace, and break the kind lady's heart. I must try and write a veryprivate little note to Mr. Dove, and tell him that though I am goingaway I'll always and always keep my word about the sweeties, and I'llalways be his truest of friends, although I do fear him more thananything in the world. "

Here Primrose came in, and poor little Daisy roused herself, and triedto talk cheerfully. 

"Primrose, " she said, "do you mind my writing a letter which nobody isto see?"

Primrose laughed. 

"You funny pet!" she said; "if no one is to see the letter why do youtrouble to write it?"

"I only mean, Primrose, " continued Daisy, "that you are not to see it, nor Jasmine, nor Miss Egerton, nor Mr. Noel. It is to--to somebody;but you are not to be curious, Primrose, nor to ask any questions. It's a most terribly important letter, and when it's written I'm goingto put it in the post myself. I'll go out with you, and you must turnyour back when I drop it into the pillar-box. You'll be very happywhen it's written, Primrose, and I'm doing it for you and Jasmine, andbecause I won't be a selfish little girl. "

Primrose stooped down and kissed Daisy. 

"You may write your letter and post it, " she said, "and I'll try notto be the least bit curious, Eyebright. Now sit down and write away, you have a nice quiet hour before Jasmine comes in to tea. "

"So I have, " answered Daisy; "thank you, Primrose. Please don't sayanything to me when I'm writing. "

Then Daisy in her corner blotted her fingers, and brought a deep flushto her little pale face, and ruined several sheets of note-paper, allof which she carefully tore up to the smallest fragments. At last anepistle, over which she sighed and trembled, and even dropped tears, was finished. It ran as follows:--

"MY DEAR FRIEND, MR. DOVE, --I always and always will be most true toyou. I would not be such a wicked little girl as to break my word foranything I'm going always to keep it, and tortures, even theInquisition, and even the rack, wouldn't get it out of me. Did youever hear of the rack, Mr. Dove? but perhaps you had better not know. Yes, I'll always keep my word, the word that I promised, and no oneshall ever know about you and me and the sticky sweetmeats; but Iwon't keep the word that I didn't promise. You remember how you wantedme to give you another word that I'd always stay here, and keepPrimrose and Jasmine here, instead of letting them go and going withthem to the Palace Beautiful. I almost promised you, for you looked sofierce, and your eyes were so bloodshot, and cruel, and terrible, andI'd great work to keep remembering that you were really my friend; butI'm so glad I did not give you that word too, for now I know that I'dhave done very wrong. A Prince has come to me, Mr. Dove, and told me Iam very selfish to try to keep my sisters out of the Palace Beautiful. He says the walls are covered with Goodness and the furniture is putthere by Self-Denial, and the windows are shining because Love haspolished them up. He says there's no Love and no Goodness here, and hecalls your rooms dungeons. He's a very, very strong Prince, and hekills ogres--he even kills ogres who are friends to little girls. Please, Mr. Dove, this is to say that I'm going away to the PalaceBeautiful, and that I'll always keep my word about the sweeties. 

 "Your true little friend, DAISY. "

Then Daisy fastened her letter, and directed it to Mr. Dove, No. 10, Eden Street, and she asked Primrose for a stamp, and then she and hereldest sister went out, and Primrose turned her back while Daisydropped the letter into the nearest pillar-box. 

The moment this was done the child gave a little skip, and caughtPrimrose's hand, and squeezed it hard, and said, in an excited voice--

"Now I've done it! I'm not going to be the selfish little girl whobreaks people's hearts. Primrose, darling let us hurry back to thedungeons, and put all our things together, so that we may reach thePalace Beautiful to-night. "

Poor Primrose, who was not in Daisy's secret, and knew nothing ofArthur Noel's allegory, was conscious of a momentary wild fear thather little sister had taken leave of her senses; but she soon began tosee meaning in Daisy's words, and was only too glad to yield to thechild's caprice at once. 

That very night, therefore, Miss Egerton's nice rooms were occupied, and that good lady laid her head on her own pillow with a light andthankful heart. 

Fortunately for Daisy, Dove was out while the packing was going on, and only Mrs. Dove, with a very black scowl on her face, saw the girlsdrive away in a four-wheeler. She refused to say good-bye to them, and was heard to mutter that the "ongratitude of some folks was pastenduring. "

"Here, Dove, " she said, when late that night her lord and master camein, "those pretty young ladies as you thought so much of--'the attics'I called them, and always will call them--well, they're gone. They hada four-wheeler, and off they've gone, bag and baggage. For my part Iain't sorry, for now that them attics are painted up and cleaned, which they did out of their own money, I may be able to rise my rent. Those young ladies and I couldn't have kept together much longer. Disobliging, I call them--disobliging, and shabby, and mistrustful;it was only this morning I asked Miss Mainwaring for the loan of sevenand sixpence, and she up and said, 'I'm sorry I can't oblige you, Mrs. Dove. ' Those kind of young ladies don't suit me, and I'm thankfulthey're gone. Why, Dove, how you do stare!--there's a letter waitingfor you on the table. "

Dove took up his letter and read it carefully once or twice; after hissecond reading he put it into his pocket, and turned to his wife--

"They've gone round to Miss Egerton's; isn't that so, my love?"

"Who do you mean by 'they, ' Dove?"

"The three young ladies, of course. "

"Oh, I suppose so; but I neither know nor care--I wash my hands ofthem from this day forward!"

"Well, then, look here, Mrs. Dove, my love, " said the husband, "I_don't_ wash my hands of them--no, not by no means. It's all right ifthey're gone to Miss Egerton's--there are trap-doors in the roof atMiss Egerton's; I know the build of the house. There are trap-doors inthe roof, and quarter-day is coming on, Mrs. Dove, my only love!"

"Law, Dove! you have a most startling way of saying them poeticlines, " answered his wife. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A "CONTINUAL READER. "

A few days after the girls were comfortably settled in their newquarters Primrose went out. She went out all alone, for by this timeLondon streets and London ways were familiar to her. Neatly and veryquietly dressed, with the usual serene light on her sweet face, andthat dignity about her whole bearing which prevented any one from everbeing rude to her, she went, not to her china-painting as usual, butsimply to take exercise in the London streets. 

The fact was, Primrose wanted to be alone--she wanted to think out aproblem. She was beginning to be perplexed, and even slightly alarmed. Her alarm was not caused at present by anything in connection withDaisy, for Daisy seemed almost bright and well again; but moneymatters were not too prosperous with the young housekeeper, the lifeof independence she had hoped to attain for herself and her sistersseemed to recede from her view day by day--the china-painting broughtin no apparent results; Mr. Jones never did anything except "all but"get customers--the quarter's allowance from Mr. Danesfield lookedsmaller and more inadequate to Primrose the more her experience inexpenses grew, and now something about Miss Egerton added to hercares. It seemed to Primrose that Miss Egerton was holding backsomething--she had always been frank and open with the girls, but whenPrimrose asked her how much their furniture had cost, and whether shehad opened Mr. Danesfield's letter to pay for it the good lady's browhad grown troubled, and she had replied--

"I am busy to-day--I will go fully into the matter presently, Primrose;" but when morning after morning Miss Egerton was still toobusy to go into the question, Primrose began to have nameless littlefears, and had to scold herself for being fanciful and nervous. 

On this afternoon she walked quickly, and without being herself awareof it she presently found herself in the neighborhood of Regent'sPark, and at last not very far from Penelope Mansion. She was thinkinghard, and paying little attention to any of the objects that met hereyes, when she was suddenly pulled up short by a round and heartyvoice, a fat hand was laid on her shoulder, and she found herself faceto face with Mrs. Dredge. 

"Well, my dear, how are you, Miss Mainwaring? Oh, yes, I'm delightedto see you. You did give us the slip, you and your pretty sisters. Idon't think Mrs. Flint quite liked it; we all questioned her, me, andMiss Slowcum, and Mrs. Mortlock, and we said, 'At any rate give ustheir address, Mrs. Flint--we take an interest in them--they arepretty-spoken young ladies, and they were a credit to theestablishment. ' But Mrs. Flint only frowned and bit her lips, andcolored. Then Mrs. Mortlock put her foot in it as far as Miss Slowcumwas concerned, for she said 'I'm sorry the girls from the country havedeparted, and that they found us so disagreeable that they had to doit unbeknown and quiet, for it was a real pleasure for ancient femaleslike ourselves to have young and bonny creatures about us. '

"Miss Slowcum got very stiff at this, for she apes youth, my dear, ina way that's past belief, and Mrs. Mortlock had her little fling onpurpose. Well, dear, and how are you? You look thin to what you were, and a bit pale. How is that pretty little sister of yours who wantedthe cheap lodgings, that was to be so clean you might eat on thefloor?"

"We are all fairly well, Mrs. Dredge, " replied Primrose, when shecould edge in a word--for Mrs. Dredge was extremely voluble--"we arefairly well, only Daisy has been suffering from cold. We have gotclean rooms too, thank you, Mrs. Dredge. "

"Well now, dear, I'm glad to hear it; that pretty child amused me whenshe spoke of cheapness and cleanliness going hand in hand. Bless herlittle heart! little she knew. 

"We have learned a great many things we knew nothing about six monthsago Mrs. Dredge, " answered Primrose, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "Yes, I am very glad to see you again--please, remember me to all theladies at Penelope Mansion. "

"Oh, my dear, they'll be glad to hear I met you--even Miss Slowcumwill, though she's a little bitter on the subject of age; and as tothat poor Sarah Maria, or Sarah Martha--I forget which she is, only Iknow she's Sarah, with something tacked to the end of it--why, she'llbe fairly skipping with delight. That poor girl, she just worships theground you three young ladies walk on. "

"Oh, do give our dear love to Poppy, " said Primrose tears springing toher eyes. 

Those sudden tears did not escape the notice of fat, good-humored Mrs. Dredge. 

"I hope you're getting on comfortably in every way, dear, " she said, "money matters and all. I had sore worries myself in the money lineuntil poor Dredge made his fortune in the chandlery business. My dear, I was almost forgetting to tell you that we've had an affliction atthe Mansion. "

"I'm very sorry, " began Primrose. 

"Yes, dear, and it's an affliction which is likely to continue, and togrow heavier. It's poor Mrs. Mortlock, dear--I'm afraid she's losingher sight, and very troublesome she'll be, and a worry to us all whenit's gone, for poor woman, she has a passion for politics that'salmost past bearing. Miss Slowcum and me, we take turns to read herthe papers now, but though our throats ache, and we're as hoarse asravens, we don't content her. Mrs. Mortlock is looking out for whatshe is pleased to call a 'continual reader, ' dear, and what I'mthinking is that perhaps you or your sister would like to try for thepost--I believe you'd suit her fine, and she can pay well, for she'sfairly made of money. "

Primrose colored. To read to Mrs. Mortlock was about the lastoccupation she would have chosen, but the thought of the purse at homewhich was getting so sadly light, and the feeling that after all herefforts she might never do much in the china-painting line, caused herto reflect anxiously. 

"May I think about it and let you know, Mrs. Dredge?"

"No, no, my dear, not by any means, for she has advertised, and theyare pouring in. Poor Sarah Susan is almost off her head answering thedoor to them. Stout readers and thin readers, old readers and youngreaders, they're all flying to the post, as if there were nothing inlife so delightful as being 'continual reader' of politics to poorMrs. Mortlock. She ought to have been suited long ago, but I've astrong hope that she isn't, for she's as fidgety and particular as ifshe were a countess. Your best chance, dear, is to come straight homewith me--we'll see Mrs. Mortlock on the spur of the moment, and tryand arrange it all. "

In this way Primrose obtained her first situation, for Mrs. Mortlockwas glad to feel her soft young hand, and her gentle and refined toneshad an instant and soothing effect on the poor lady's irritablenerves. 

"My dear, " she said, "what with rasping voices, and piping voices, anddroning voices, to say nothing of voices that were more like growlsthan anything else, I felt nearly demented. Yes, Miss Mainwaring, thisis a sore affliction that has befallen me, and I knew there wasnothing before me but the services of a 'continual reader, ' for poorMrs. Dredge, though she did her best, was decidedly thick in herutterance; and Miss Slowcum, oh dear! the affectations of Miss Slowcumwere quite beyond me, besides our differing altogether in politics--meholding for Gladstone, and she fairly hating the poor man. You'll dovery well, Miss Mainwaring, and I hope you'll study your papers wellwhile you're at home, so that you may know what you are reading about, and read intelligent accordingly. I always like both sides of thequestion, which was my poor husband's habit, for he was a veryintelligent man, Miss Mainwaring. And then I like my bit of gossip andmy Court news. I adore my Queen, Miss Mainwaring, and it is a real_bonâ fide_ pleasure to learn when and where she drives abroad. You'llcome, please, in the morning, and set to work at your continualreading. Salary, fifteen shillings a week certain. Now, now, youneedn't hesitate at taking what I call a lofty salary, for it alwayswas my way to pay down handsome. There now, that's settled. Shakehands, dear; good-bye till the morning. Sarah Maria, you needn't showup no more of the 'continual readers, ' for I believe I have made abargain with this young lady. "

"Oh, Miss Primrose!" said poor Poppy, as she showed her out, "I ammore than thankful that you are coming here, miss--that's for my sake, miss, though I'm dreadful afraid you'll suffer yourself. I'm awfulafraid you'll get muddled in your head, miss, for as to mine, it hasswam away long ago. I begin not to know in the least who I am, miss. Poppy, why it ain't nowhere! only I'm Sarah, with all the other wordsin the dictionary tacked on to it. I don't mind it now; they say folkscan get accustomed to anything, so I don't mind being Sarah, andeverything else too, only it has a very swimming effect on the head, Miss Primrose. Oh, my darling young lady! do ask Miss Jasmine and MissDaisy to let me come and see them. "

"Yes, Poppy, you shall come and see us all again, if you will onlykeep our little secret, for just at present we don't want the peopleat home to know where we are; and remember, Poppy dear, that you arealways Poppy to us three girls. "

"I'll hold on to that, " said poor Poppy, "when my head's fairlyreeling. I'll clutch on to it, and hold firm. Poppy, which means atare, I am, to my own dear young ladies. Oh dear! oh dear! they'recalling me--it's Sarah Matilda this time. Good-bye until to-morrow, dear Miss Primrose. "

CHAPTER XXXII. 

JASMINE BEGINS TO SOAR. 

When Primrose went home and told her sisters and Miss Egerton what shehad done, Jasmine's eyes had grown first bright, and then misty. 

"To be continual reader to Mrs. Mortlock!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Primrose, it is an act of self-denial to you--it is, isn't it? Own atonce that you were very brave to do it, darling. "

"I don't think so, " said Primrose; "there may be a certain littleamount of drudgery in it, and perhaps I would rather have orders topaint beautiful roses and lilies on china plates, but you see, Jasmine, this work has been sent to me--I think God sent it, and Imust not refuse it because perhaps I would like something elsebetter. "

"That's bravely spoken, Primrose, " said Miss Egerton who was sittingby, for she often spent odd half-hours with the girls. "Look ateverything in the same spirit, my love; try to see God's hand in allthe little events, and you will have a brave life and a happy one. "

"And a successful, I hope, " added Jasmine. "Miss Egerton, how awful itwould be if we girls were to fail!"

"My Prince says, " here interrupted Daisy, "that whenever we do a goodthing and a right thing, we bring something fresh and lovely into ourPalace Beautiful. Isn't it nice to think that dear old Primrose hasdone this?"

"The money, too, will be of great help, " added Primrose. "Why, Jasmine, we may even be able to save a little. "

Thus encouraged, Primrose commenced her duties, and though her throatached--and she certainly found the continual reading of politics, interspersed with very sharp discussions on the part of Mrs. Mortlock, anything but agreeable--she did not give way. 

Miss Egerton was pleased to see Primrose so bright, and was glad toknow she was really earning something; and Jasmine and Daisy preparedthe cheeriest welcomes possible for her evening after evening on herreturn. 

Jasmine, however, by no means intended Primrose to be the only one whowas to bring assistance to the household purse. 

Jasmine knew that they had all come up to London on purpose to beeducated, or to educate themselves, sufficiently to earn theirlivings. She considered that six months' experience of the ups anddowns of London life might bear fruit in her case as well as in hersister's. 

Jasmine was supposed to be having her style formed by Miss Egerton'sdaily tuitions, but Miss Egerton's words of encouragement over herpupil's productions were decidedly meagre; and Jasmine, though sheloved her, had long ago confided to Daisy that she considered MissEgerton's manner had a damping effect on enthusiasm. 

One bitterly cold March day Jasmine had been sitting for hoursscribbling away at her novel. Daisy petted the cat, looked over somewell-known picture-books, and finally sank back into the recesses ofone of the most comfortable chairs in the room and began to thinkabout the Prince. 

"Don't go to sleep, Daisy, " called out Jasmine presently. "I'm comingover in a minute to consult you. "

Nothing could possibly be more gratifying to Daisy than to know thatJasmine wished to ask her advice. She accordingly roused herself, ceased to think of the Prince, and said, in a very bright littlevoice--

"I'll help you the best I can, Jasmine. "

"It's just this, " said Jasmine, dashing down her pen on the top ofher manuscript, and causing thereby a great blot--"it's just this, Daisy; I've got to do something, and you have got to help me. "

"Oh, I'm sure if I can, " said little Daisy, still in that slightlypatronizing voice, for the little maid's head was almost turned bybeing thus appealed to. "Is it to sew on buttons for you, Jasmine? forthough I don't like sewing on buttons, I'll do it, or even--even--I'lldarn your stockings, dear Jasmine. "

Jasmine laughed. 

"It's nothing of that kind, Eyebright; it's something much, much moreimportant. You know, Daisy, what we came up to London for--why, ofcourse you know why we left all our dear friends, and are living inabout the very dullest part of London--of course you know?"

"Was it?" said Daisy, looking dubious; "was it--I never could quitemake out--because Primrose did not like Mrs. Ellsworthy?"

"Oh, you silly, silly little thing! What a dreadful thing to get intoyour head, Daisy-flower! I did think you knew why we came to town, andgave everything up, and made ourselves so miserable. "

"We did make ourselves miserable, " sighed Daisy, "and I had to takeMr. Dove for my friend. I like to have him for my friend, though. Whatwas the reason, please, Jasmine?"

"We came to London for the glorious privilege of being independent, "chanted Jasmine, in a majestic voice. "Daisy, I'm going to be it. I'mgoing to fling my shackles to the winds. I'm going to soar. "

"It sounds lovely, " said Daisy. "You always were a poet, Jasmine, andI suppose poets do talk like that; but how are you going to beindependent, Jasmine?"

"I'm going to earn money, little woman. Miss Egerton has kept me inshackles. I've worn them patiently, but now I burst the bonds. Daisy, I have formed a little theory. I believe girls are sent into the worldwith a strong bias in a particular direction. You see, it always didseem to be meant that dear Primrose was to be a companion, orsecretary, of some sort; for Mrs. Ellsworthy wanted her to be Mr. Ellsworthy's secretary, and to write his letters for him. She wouldnot be that, even though it was her bent, and now she's got to acceptsomething far worse; for it really must be dreadful to be 'continualreader' to poor old Mrs. Mortlock. Now, Daisy, what I say isthis--there's no use in wasting time or money looking after thingswhich don't suit us. Primrose was meant to be a secretary or continualreader, and so she has to be one; and I have always been meant tobelong to the rather higher order of novelist or poet, and there's nouse in my being damped any longer by Miss Egerton. I don't mean to beconceited, but I know that I have got the flutterings of a poet'swings in my soul, and soar I must. "

Jasmine looked very pretty while she was speaking, and little Daisyadmired her high-flown words, and fully believed in her genius. 

"Do soar, Jasmine, darling, " she said; "I have not a notion how youare to do it, but do begin at once. It will make these rooms more thanever like a Palace Beautiful if you take to soaring in them. "

"I've nearly finished my novel, " said Jasmine; "and I've also writtena poem. It is called the 'Flight of the Beautiful, ' and is in sevenparts. Each part would take up two or three pages of a magazine. To-morrow, Daisy dear, I am going to take my novel and poem into themarket. I shall offer them to the highest bidders. I won't send themby post, for I always notice in books that, when gifted authors sendtheir contributions by post, they are declined with thanks, becausethey aren't read. I am going to take my own manuscripts to thepublishers, Daisy, and I shall propose to them to read aloud a fewextracts. "

"You can't be at all shy if you do that, Jasmine, " said Daisy, lookingin a rather awe-struck way at her sister. 

"Shy?" echoed Jasmine. "If one feels it, one has only to get over it. Is that the way to conquer difficulties, Daisy?--just to be baffled bya little nervous feeling. No, I really want to fill the purse, and Ialso wish to give the publishers what I am sure they must be alwayslooking for; for I have looked in vain, month after month, in severalmagazines, and nowhere have I seen three or four pages of continualblank verse. I suppose they can't get it, poor things! but they willin my 'Flight of the Beautiful!'"

"_I_ think blank verse a little dull, " said Daisy, softly, and halfunder her breath; but, when Jasmine frowned, she added hastily, "Ofcourse you're splendidly brave, dear Jasmine; and who'll go with youto the publisher's when you do go?"

"I've been considering that, " said Jasmine; "and I think I'll takePoppy. Poppy is to have a whole holiday on Tuesday next, because herquarter's wages are due, and I'll ask her to come with me. She'd enjoyit--Poppy would--and very likely in the evening I'll be able to tellyou and Primrose that I've made my first success. Oh, how happy andhow proud I shall be!"

A few minutes afterwards Jasmine went out, and Daisy wondered solemnlyif her bent in life was to keep on friendly terms with Mr. Dove. 

"I'm very glad I took the Prince's advice, " she said to herself. "I'mmuch, much happier since I came to the Palace Beautiful, and I don'tthink Mr. Dove minds much, for he has never answered my letter. Ohdear! perhaps I was too much afraid of Mr. Dove. I am so glad thePrince explained to me about being a selfish little girl. And, oh dear!there is the Prince!"

Arthur Noel often came to see Daisy. He came in the evenings at anhour when the elder girls were often away, and then Daisy sat on hisknee, and chatted to him volubly. 

This afternoon she told him about both her sisters. 

"Is having a bent the same as destiny, Mr. Noel?" she inquiredanxiously. "Jasmine says she has a bent, and she must follow it, andno one can prevent her. "

"The bent can be guided, Daisy, " said Arthur; but he looked puzzledand seemed uncomfortable at the little girl's news. The Ellsworthy'shad begged of Noel to promote the interests of these girls. He wasonly too anxious to do so, but he found his task by no means an easyone. What wild imprudence would poor little Jasmine commit if she wasnot aided and helped; surely Primrose's work was too uncongenial forher long to continue it. Why did the girls persistently reject thekindnesses of those who would help them? Where was it all to end?Their money could only hold out to a certain date. How fragile Daisylooked, even now; had anybody been cruel to the little one? What wasthe mystery about Mr. Danesfield's letter? and above all things, whydid not Mr. Danesfield reply to a long epistle which Arthur had senthim some weeks ago?

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

VISITING THE PUBLISHERS. 

Jasmine had begged of Daisy to keep her secret from Primrose's ears. She said that half her pleasure in bringing home money for hercontributions would be destroyed if Primrose knew about it beforehand. Jasmine hoped that if she were very successful she might be able tobuy a little present apiece for both her sisters. Primrose badlyneeded some new gloves, and Jasmine pictured to herself how her eldestsister's sweet eyes would fill with tears, and how touched she wouldbe by her little offering. Yes, certainly Daisy must keep her secretfaithfully. 

On Tuesday morning, as Primrose was preparing to start for PenelopeMansion, Jasmine announced her intention of accompanying her. Her facehad a slightly guilty look as she made this suggestion; and Daisyquite blushed, and kept her eyes fixed on her plate, and wondered howJasmine would smuggle a large roll of manuscript out of the house. Primrose immediately guessed that there was a little mystery afloat, but she was not a curious girl, and was only too pleased to see thather sisters had something to interest them. 

"You can walk with me if you like, Jasmine, " she said; "but it is arather dull morning, and I fear it will rain. "

"Torrents wouldn't keep me in to-day, " said Jasmine. Then fearing shehad betrayed herself, she added hastily, "I want to see Poppy. Poppyis to have a holiday to-day, and I want to take her out. "

Primrose made no further objection, and Jasmine having packed hermanuscript into a small leather bag, and having given Daisy a somewhatsolemn farewell, the two girls set out. 

When they arrived at the Mansion Primrose went upstairs at once toMrs. Mortlock's sitting-room, but Jasmine began to enter into anearnest conversation with Poppy. 

"Are you quite ready, Poppy? Oh, you've got your working dress onstill; how tiresome!"

"I won't be a minute changing, Miss Jasmine; the hours for the workingmaid's holiday are from ten to ten, and I won't be denied them. Theclock has just gone ten, miss, and not another stroke of work shallAunt Flint get out of me to-day, miss. "

"Quite right, Poppy, " said Jasmine; "run upstairs now, and be asquick as possible, and I will wait for you in the hall. "

Poppy did not need to be told to hasten; she flew up to the smallattic which she occupied at the top of the house, and made a hastyand, she hoped, a brilliant toilet. She had been thinking for weeks ofthis day; for since Primrose had come to Mrs. Mortlock's Jasmine hadpromised Poppy that she was to spend her holiday with her, and Poppyhad been getting ready her toilet with a view to the occasion. 

Her dress, after all, was only an ordinary and somewhat shabby brownone, but she had adorned her tight-fitting black jacket with asky-blue bow, which hung down in front with what she considered "trulyhartistic folds. " Poppy's hat, however, was her master-piece; it was arather small white straw hat, trimmed with dark blue velvet, andadorned with a scarlet tip and a bunch of yellow daffodils. 

Poppy's black eyes gleamed mischievously under the shade of thisbrilliant hat, and her cheeks rivalled the scarlet tip in their color. 

With her little purse clasped tightly in her hand she trippeddownstairs and joined Jasmine. 

Jasmine was too excited and too eager to be off to notice Poppy'sattire particularly, and when her hat and general get-up were receivedwithout a comment the little maid whispered to herself, "It's onlyanother of the _bitings_; life's full of them--choke-full. "

"Where are we going, Miss Jasmine?" she asked aloud, smothering back aslight sigh. 

"Business first, Poppy, " said Jasmine--"business first and thenpleasure. I thought we'd make a little programme in this way--we'dvisit the publishers at their seats of learning in the morning hours;in the afternoon we might go to Madame Tussaud's or a picturegallery--I'd prefer that, but of course naturally you'd go in forMadame Tussaud's, Poppy; then in the evening we'll go and have teawith Daisy. We'll bring something nice in for tea, and Daisy will beso happy. I expect to have very good news to bring to my little sisterto-night, Poppy. "

"Oh, indeed, miss, I'm sure I'm gratified to hear that same. I think, Miss Jasmine, that the programme sounds sensible--the dull part first, and then the pleasure, and then the needed refreshment for our hungrybodies. All things considered, Miss Jasmine, seeing that I eats thebread of toil from morn to eve, and have a swimming head, owing tobeing Sarah with every other name tacked on, I think it might be bestfor me to be enlivened with the waxen figures, miss, and not to havemy poor brain worrited with picters. "

"All right, Poppy, we will certainly go to Madame Tussaud's--but youmust not consider the first part of our day dull, dear Poppy--it isbusiness, certainly, but you don't know what it means to me. To-day, Poppy, I am about to take my first soaring flight. "

"Oh law! Miss Jasmine--I always knew you were clever, miss, and Isuppose it is because I'm so worried in my business days that I've gotthat stupid that I can't see no meaning at all in your words, miss. "

"All right, Poppy, you need not see any meaning in them--all you haveto do is to come with me, and look very grave and solemn, and say'Yes' when I say 'Yes, ' and shake your head and look stern when I do. You are older than me, Poppy, and you are coming as a sort ofchaperon. Oh dear! Poppy, I wish you would not wear that scarlet wingand those yellow flowers in your hat. "

"The cruellest of all the bitings, " whispered Poppy under her breath. Aloud she said, in a meek but determined little voice--

"That hat's as it's trimmed, Miss Jasmine, and must remain according, for it can't be denuded in the street. "

"All right, Poppy. Your own dear face looks sweet and home-like underit; now let us get into the very first omnibus, and find our way tothe city. "

When the girls arrived within the sacred precincts of the far-famedPaternoster Row, Jasmine held her breath a little, and stood stillwhile she eagerly considered as to which publishing house she shouldoffer her wares. Finally, she determined that her first pilgrimageshould be to the editor of _The Downfall_, who had not yet returned oreven written to her about her "Ode to Adversity. "

The office of _The Downfall_ was not in Paternoster Row, but in a verynarrow street adjoining, and Jasmine, followed by Poppy, plungedboldly down this narrow alley, and then up, and up, and up, and up thewinding stairs to the editor's office at the top of the house. 

Jasmine had not been at all agreeably impressed by Mr. Rogers on theoccasion of her former visit. Unaccompanied by Poppy, she wouldscarcely have again ventured to approach him, but Poppy looked quitedetermined and resolute enough to give her little companion courage, and Jasmine's childish voice was presently heard in the outer officedemanding to see the editor. 

It so happened that Mr. Rogers was not particularly engaged, for _TheDownfall_ was rapidly proving the truth of its title, and was having avery quick descent into an early and untimely grave--consequently itseditor had very little to do. 

Mr. Rogers consented to see Miss Jasmine Mainwaring and hercompanion, and accordingly the two girls were ushered into theeditorial presence. 

Mr. Rogers commenced his interview with Miss Jasmine by apparentlyforgetting all about her. This had a most disconcerting effect on theyoung author. 

"But surely you must remember that I came to see you nearly threemonths ago, and brought you a poem called an 'Ode to Adversity, '"pleaded Jasmine--"we had rather a long talk about it; I don't know howyou can absolutely forget. "

"My dear young lady, so many people call, and leave so many poems, andeach poem is so like the last, that really you must pardon me, but myhead gets confused. "

"Taken with a kind of swimming, sir?" here burst in Poppy. "I supposeit is a sort of Sarah case over again. "

The editor stared rather fiercely at this unexpected interruption, deigned no reply whatever to Poppy, and continued his conversationwith Jasmine. 

"I am sorry that I have forgotten both you and your poem--it is, doubtless, docketed with others to be returned in due course--I amsorry, but of course I could not use it--did you expect me to? Why, the name alone--an 'Ode to Adversity, ' was quite sufficient to make medecline it. "

"But, but, " said Jasmine, coloring crimson and very nearly crying, "Iwas told by a lady who reads your paper that the name was just whatyou like. She said that your paper was called by a melancholy name, and of course you wanted melancholy subjects. "

The editor smiled in a very bland, though disagreeable manner--"_TheDownfall_, " he said; "we chose that title for political reasons. " Herehe sounded a gong. "Jones, " as an attendant came in, "look inpigeon-hole D, and put into an envelope for this young lady someverses entitled an 'Ode to Adversity. ' Sorry I can do nothing more foryou this morning, Miss Mainwaring. Good morning--_good_ morning. "

When the two girls got out on the landing Jasmine thrust her rejectedpoem into Poppy's hand. 

"Put it into your pocket, Poppy, " she said, "and don't on any accountlet me see it--I must try to forget it, or my courage will go. Evidently, Poppy, names go by contraries. I wrote some dismal paperson purpose for _The Downfall_; I will now offer them to a magazinewhich has a cheerful title. "

"Look there, Miss Jasmine, " said Poppy, when they got into the street. "Right there, facing us at the other side, is what I call a pleasantmagazine--it has lots of pictures, for see, it's pressed up to thewindow wide open, and it's called _The Joy-bell_--I'm a great dealmore taken with that sound than with the sound of _The Downfall_. "

"So am I, too, " said Jasmine, the April cloud quickly leaving herexpressive face--"I'm so glad I have you with me, dear Poppy; I wasfeeling so low just now that I should never have noticed the office of_The Joy-bell_--it has a very nice, high-class sound, and I should saywas a more attractive magazine than even a shilling one. We'll gothere at once, Poppy, and be sure you support me, and say 'Yes' when Ilook at you; and if I happen to frown in your direction, you'll knowthat I want you to help me not to accept too low a price. Now come, Poppy; I feel that destiny leads my steps to the office of _TheJoy-bell_. "

The editor of _The Joy-bell_ happened also to be disengaged, and afterkeeping the young aspirant for literary fame waiting for about aquarter of an hour, consented to see her and her companion. 

Jasmine's interview with this editor caused her to come away in veryhigh spirits, for he had not only promised most carefully to considerher poem, "The Flight of the Beautiful, " but he had also said he waswanting a serial story to run through the pages of _The Joy-bell_, andif hers happened to suit him he would be happy to use it. Finally, shewent away, leaving both her story and her poems in his hands, and witha large parcel of _Joy-bells_ under her arm. 

"I will let you know my decision in a few days, " said the editor, witha very suave smile. "Oh, yes, as to terms, we can talk them over whenI discover if your story is likely to suit me. "

Then Jasmine went away trembling with delight. 

"Oh, Poppy!" she said, "how very, very happy I am. "

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A PLAN. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy had by no means forgotten the girls--they had allthree taken her fancy, and, as she said to her husband, she could notget them out of her head. Arthur Noel, who was a sort of adopted sonof the house, often now brought her information about her favorites, but the good little lady was impatient to see the girls herself, andfelt much annoyed at not being able to induce Arthur to give her theiraddress. 

"I don't want them to succeed, " she said, talking one day to the youngman. "I have plenty of money, more than I really know what to do with, and I particularly want to spend some of it on these girls. If theysucceed in what they are about they won't want my money, and of coursethat is the last thing I wish. If I cannot adopt all three, why atleast can I not have Jasmine?--Jasmine is my favorite, although I lovethat little pet Daisy too. Arthur, you may talk to me from morning tonight, but you will never persuade me but that Jasmine is the sort ofgirl who would shine better in prosperity than in adversity. "

"You cannot take her from her sisters, " said Noel; "I do not believeyou would get her to leave them--but if you were to try and were tosucceed, you would certainly lower her character, and having donethis, you could not say she would be a better girl in prosperity thanin adversity. "

"You are so particular, Arthur, " half grumbled Mrs. Ellsworthy; "youmust have forgotten your own very poor days, or you would not speak sowarmly for adversity. "

"I don't quite forget them, " said Arthur, a cloud coming over hisface, which was a particularly bright one. "I have a dim memory aboutthem, and a very, very dim memory about a mother and an old nurse, wholoved me very much. I can just recall crying night after night for mymother, and being beaten, and silenced, and half starved. Then Isuppose I was ill, for I know there is a blank which I never can fillup; but I shall always remember that day when I stood in the snowystreet, and cried so bitterly, and tried to ask for pennies, and howmy hat blew off, and I ran to catch it, and then--"

"Oh, it was horrible!" said Mrs. Ellsworthy, covering her face withher hands. "I shudder at it even now--the coachman could not keep thehorses in, and they went over you, and we thought you were killed. Youwere lifted into the carriage--such a ragged, thin little figure, with such a lovely face. You came to--you were not so badly hurt--itwas nothing short of a miracle, for you ought to have been almostkilled. My brother Arthur was with me, and when you opened your eyesyou stretched out your arms to him. He just took you to his heart onthe spot, and you were his son from that day forward. Well, Arthur, Idon't think, prosperity has done you any harm. "

"I had no choice, " said Noel. "Prosperity came to me as God's gift. Itso happens that I am now a rich man and I suppose even rich people canfind their mission. The girls at present are poor; our cases are in noway parallel. Oh! how gladly I would help them, but believe me, Iwould help them to keep their independence. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy frowned. 

"If you are going to thwart me, Arthur, I am done, " she said. 

"Can you not help them without adopting them?" asked Arthur. 

"Oh! my dear boy, what am I to do? I know lots of influential people, but I can't go to them and say, 'I know three charming girls; they areall as ignorant as possible; they don't know any of our manners andcustoms; they are not educated up to the required standard; they arefearfully independent. Will you, my dear friend, take the eldest intoyour family, and give her a governess's salary, although she cannotteach? and will you, my other beloved friend, speak to the editor ofthe magazine you most admire, and ask him to accept poems which do notscan, and stories which are the feeble productions of an ambitiouschild? And will you, my last friend, come to the rescue by employing acertain sweet little girl to look after your kittens?' Arthur, how canthose girls be independent unless they are taught?"

"Still I believe the girls can be helped; and that it is the right andonly thing to do, " said Noel. "I propose to talk to Miss Egerton aboutthem. I will ask her to go into figures with me, and to state what sumshe thinks ought to be expended on their education. She probably knowssomething about what talents they have by this time. After she and Ihave talked our plans over together we will ask you whether you areinclined to advance the necessary money. If you say 'Yes, ' MissEgerton will speak to the girls, and tell them quite openly what youare doing, and appeal to their common sense not to reject their onlyreal chance of obtaining an independence bye-and-bye. They can, ifthey think right, arrange to pay you back within a certain term ofyears. I believe you will do best for them by making such anarrangement. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy both frowned and smiled, but finally agreed to allowArthur Noel to have his own way. 

That very afternoon the energetic young man went to see Miss Egerton. They discussed the subject in an its bearings, and Miss Egertonarranged to speak to Primrose at the first opportunity. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

THEIR QUARTER'S ALLOWANCE. 

"Two letters, " said Daisy, holding them up in her hand; "actually twoletters; one for Primrose--oh, yes! of course that must be from Mr. Danesfield; and one for Jasmine--oh! Jasmine's is such a funny-lookingletter, quite thick and interesting, and with a darling little pictureon the back. What can the picture be?--oh! some little bells, and _TheJoy-bell_ written over them. "

"Give it to me, " said Jasmine, her face suddenly turning crimson. "Oh, Daisy! why do you examine my letters so curiously? This was meant tobe quite private. Oh, oh, oh! how my fingers tremble. "

"We are all alone, you know, Jasmine, " said Daisy; "dear Primrose isnot in. She went to her continual reading nearly an hour ago. DearPrimrose! she sometimes looks quite pale and tired. Perhaps the letteris about our secret, Jasmine; please do read it to me--please do. "

But by this time Jasmine had torn the envelope open, and wasoblivious to all Daisy's comments. Her eager eyes devoured thecontents of an official-looking sheet of paper, then she danced up anddown the room, then she tossed the paper up to the ceiling, andfinally caught Daisy in her arms, and covered her little face withkisses. 

"Oh, Daisy, it's too good!--I'm so happy, I could almost cry. Daisy, darling, he wants to see me about my story--he thinks it's veryfine--he says there are masterly bits in it--I'm to go and see him assoon as possible. "

"Him?" repeated Daisy; "but who is he, Jasmine?"

"He's the editor of one of the most powerful of all our magazines, "said Jasmine; "the magazine is called _The Joy-bell_--hasn't it adelicious title? Oh, Daisy! I must go at once to see him. "

"Take me with you, " said Daisy, coming up close to her sister--"takeme with you, darling, dear Jasmine. I'm much better, I've nearly lostmy cough, and the spring is coming; the air feels quite warmto-day--do take me, Jasmine, for it is our own secret, and then, afteryou've got your money--for I suppose you'll get a lot of money--we canboth tell Primrose to-night. "

Jasmine hesitated, but the sun was shining warmly, and Daisy's littleface was very pleading--Jasmine felt so happy at this moment that shegreatly longed to give happiness. 

"Yes, " she said, suddenly, "I don't suppose Primrose will really mind, and you must wrap up well; only there's just one thing, Daisy, we'llhave to call for Poppy. I would not on any account go to thepublisher's without Poppy. "

As Jasmine and Daisy were hurrying quickly down the street to catchthe first omnibus which went in the direction of the Edgware Road, Daisy suddenly clutched her sister's hand, the color left her prettyface, and she began to hurry forward at a very rapid pace. 

"What is the matter, Daisy?" said Jasmine: "you have quite hurt myhand; has anything frightened you? have you seen any one?"

"Oh, it's nothing--I mean I'm subject to starts, " said poor littleDaisy, in a sad voice. "I'll be better when I get into the omnibuswith you, Jasmine; and please, Jasmine, may I sit very close to you?and may I hold your hand?"

"You poor little darling!" said Jasmine, affectionately, "you are nota bit strong yet--you must have some more chemical food; I am toldthere is nothing so good for starts as chemical food. "

Daisy gave another start and a very gentle sigh. She knew well in herlittle breast that no amount of chemical food would take away theterror which inspired her when she saw the face of Mr. Dove. She hadseen him just now, although Jasmine had not--he was standing withseveral other men at the corner of the road, and his blood-shot eyeshad seemed to look through her, and as she passed by he had raised hishand, and shaken it at her in a truly menacing manner. 

Dove had not forgotten Daisy, as Daisy had fondly hoped. DaisyMainwaring meant to him a certain amount of money. Dove was not thesort of man to allow the chance of gaining money dishonestly to go by. As to earning money, and coming by it as the sweet fruits of honesttoil, that did not at all suit his idea. When he saw the child goingout with her sister he recollected, with much pleasure, thatquarter-day was about due. Feeling in his own pockets, he confessedthey were unpleasantly light and empty, and then he wondered if hemight find any agreeable little pickings in the girls' trunks. He hadsubjugated poor little Daisy so completely that he would have venturedto rob even in her presence, but of course he preferred doing hisburglary work alone. 

He very quickly made up his mind to pay a visit that very day to thegirls' new rooms in Miss Egerton's house. He made an excuse to getaway from his companions, and then, walking quickly in the directionof Miss Egerton's house, he took his bearings carefully. At this hourMiss Egerton was busy with her school and Bridget was employed in thekitchen. He might do what he liked, therefore, in that part of thehouse which the girls called the Palace Beautiful. He knew a way bywhich he could get on the roof--from the roof there was an easyentrance to the girls' rooms. By the time Jasmine, Daisy, and Poppywere joyously driving towards the city Dove had taken possession oftheir nice bright rooms. When he got in he locked the outer door, andthen he felt quite comfortable, and at leisure to look around him. 

The first thing he saw was the letter directed to Primrose on thesitting-room table. He took it up, and examined it closely. He couldspell out--for he was by no means a proficient reader--the wordRosebury on one of the post-marks; that was enough for him; the letterwas tucked neatly into his pocket, and then he went round the room insearch of fresh spoil. 

He found very little, for the Palace Beautiful showed none of itscharms to his eyes; in Dove's opinion it was a poor sort ofplace--clean, certainly, but what of that? Dove considered thatcleanliness meant poverty. Dove's tastes lay in the direction of roomsthickly carpeted; he liked two or three carpets, one on the top of theother, on a floor; he liked the rooms to be well crowded withfurniture--furniture of the good old mahogany type, heavy anddark--and the windows draped with thick merino. A room so furnishedwould, as Dove expressed it, look solid, and mean a heavy purse, andperhaps a nice little nest-egg laid by tidily in one of the drawers orbureaus. Such a room would be very interesting to examine, but thissitting-room, with its crimson drugget, and its white flooring, itsone or two choice engravings on the walls, and its little book-casefilled with good and valuable books, was, Dove considered, very shabbyindeed. He found nothing more worth taking, and having given the Pinka kick by way of a parting blessing, he left the room, made his exitagain by the roof, and so departed unperceived. He had Primrose'sletter in his pocket, and he thought himself very lucky to have sonicely secured her quarter's allowance. He returned to his own housein Eden Street, and in the privacy of his back parlor opened Mr. Danesfield's letter. It was a short letter, and, as it happened wasnot written by Mr. Danesfield at all. Dove, however, by patientspelling and peering, presently mastered its contents. 

 "The Bank, "High Street, Rosebury, "April 21. 

"MADAM, "In Mr. Danesfield's absence, I send you a cheque for £17 10_s. _, according to his orders. The cheque will require your signature at theback, and if you will kindly sign it you, or any one else, can obtaincash for the amount at the Metropolitan Bank, Strand. 

"I expect Mr. Danesfield home in about six weeks; he has beenwintering abroad. 

 "Yours faithfully, "JOHN DAVIS. "

Dove took the greater part of an hour to make this letter out; next hefingered the cheque, turning it backwards and forwards; then his facegrew very blank--for, unsigned, that cheque was valueless. He was aviolent man, and he uttered some strong expressions, and his wife, onhearing them, took good care to keep out of his way. She could notmake out why Dove sat so long in the back parlor, and why he refusedto eat his dinner, which was very hot and tasty. After a time, with asigh of relief, she heard him go out. 

Dove had hastily fastened up the letter, trusting to no one's noticingthat it had been opened. Again he reached Miss Egerton's house; againhe made his way from the roof to the upper landing, and from the upperlanding to the girls' rooms; the letter was not placed on the table, but was skilfully slipped down between some books which lay in a pileon Jasmine's little writing-table. It might have been put there byany one who was dusting the room, and it might have lain in itspresent position unseen for many days. Dove hoped no one wouldperceive it; he scowled at the poor little Pink, who crouched awayfrom him, and turning on his heel again, left the room. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

_THE JOY-BELL_. 

It is to be feared that Poppy stole away from her work that morning. Poor Poppy was getting into a sadly defiant mood. She was gettingthoroughly tired of her aunt, Mrs. Flint, and when Jasmine appearedand said a few coaxing words the naughty girl left her work undone, disregarded the many cries for Sarah Ann and Sarah Maria, and puttingon her brilliant hat and her smart jacket, sallied forth citywardswith Jasmine and Daisy. In due time the three reached the office of_The Joy-bell_ and were admitted into the presence of the editor. 

"You musn't let me accept too low terms, Poppy, " said Jasmine, as theywere going in at the door. 

Poppy nodded very brightly in reply, and Jasmine took the seat theeditor offered her with a certain little air of modest elation. 

"I got your note, " she began, "and I thought you'd like to see meimmediately, so I came. This is my sister; she knows all about it;she's in the story herself. I've drawn all my characters from thelife; and my friend, Poppy Jenkins--you saw her a fortnight ago--she'sin the book too. "

The editor--Mr. Potter was his name--had a habit of waving his handwhen anything that he considered superfluous was being said; he nowwaved both Daisy and Poppy into the background, and addressed himselfto Jasmine in a style which, as she said afterwards, riveted herattention on the spot. 

"I wrote to you, Miss Mainwaring, " he said, "because I saw germs ofpromise in your composition--it is young, of course, for you are veryyoung, but it is fresh, and with due correctness, which I myself amwilling to supply, I do not see why 'The Pursuit of Happiness' shouldnot appear in our journal. We publish, however, only under certainconditions, and before I make any offer for your writings I shouldlike to know whether you are able to fulfil them. "

"That sounds in the nature of a bargain, " here burst from Poppy'slips. "Now, Miss Jasmine, please will you listen very sharp, and seewhat the gentleman is after? Bargains seem to me to be all in favor ofthem that makes them. Aunt Flint made a bargain with me, and, oh my! Ithought it good enough to leave the country and come up to a townwhose name is wanity. Nothing have I got, Miss Jasmine, from my shareof the bargain but a swimming head and the name of Sarah!"

"If this young person will cease to interrupt us, " proceeded theeditor, in his blandest tones. 

"Oh, yes; Poppy, please stop talking, " said Jasmine. "I beg yourpardon, sir; I only wanted Poppy to help me when we came to terms. Wehave not come to the money part yet, dear Poppy. Yes, sir, I am mostanxious to listen to you. "

"Well, Miss Mainwaring, the facts are these--yes, I fear it is aquestion of money, after all. _The Joy-bell_ is a new magazine; we aremost anxious to extend its circulation by every means in our power. Wehave hit on what we consider a novel, but effective expedient. Eachcontributor to our pages is expected to subscribe for a hundred copiesper month of our magazine--these copies he is asked to disseminate aswidely as possible amongst his friends. The magazine is only sixpencea month. Of course you get your friends to take the copies off yourhands. Your story will, I think, run for six months--you are reallyput to no expense, for, of course, you must know a hundred people whowill gladly take a magazine in which you appear. Thus you gain theadvantage of having your story widely read and published not at yourown expense. "

"But please--" began Jasmine. 

"If I might speak who am brought here for the purpose, " here burstfrom Poppy, "what pay is the young lady to have for the words ofgenius that she has wrote upon the paper? Yes, Miss Jasmine, you saidI was to let my voice be heard here--I'm not afraid, not of nobody, and here, I puts down my foot, and I says, 'What's the pay?'"

"The pay?" echoed the editor. "Surely the young lady does not expectto be paid for anything so very amateur--no, she cannot expect to bepaid in money--in another way she is paid, and largely; she obtains areputation, and what immature talent she has is brought to the fore! Iam afraid, Miss Mainwaring, I must not take up any more of yourvaluable time--I think I have explained myself quite clearly--do youaccept my offer? If you are willing to become a subscriber for onehundred copies monthly of _The Joy-bell_ your story shall appear; ifnot, I must return you your MS. With regret. "

Poor Jasmine's white little face grew piteous. 

"Oh, Poppy!" she began. 

"Do you want it, Miss Jasmine?" said Poppy. "I calls it a cheat; butdo you want it?"

"Oh, dear Poppy, I thought my words would look so lovely in Print--Iam disappointed!"

"Then you shan't be, Miss Jasmine, darling. Here, sir, you're anotherof the Aunt Flint tribe, but my darling Miss Jasmine shall not lookas she does now if I can prevent it. Please, sir, will you look inthis here little purse given to you by the honest hand of toil, andsee if it contains the price of a hundred of those nasty _Joy-bells_. There's my three months' wage in that purse, sir, so I expect it willprove sufficient. "

The editor opened the little purse gingerly. 

"Do you wish your friend to subscribe for you?" he asked, looking atJasmine. "I will allow you to have the first instalment at areduction. The full price for a hundred copies of _The Joy-bell_ atsixpence a copy will be, of course, fifty shillings. On this occasionyou shall have these delivered to you at your residence for forty-fiveshillings. "

"It's in the purse, sir, " said Poppy, with an air of modest pride. "Forty-five shillings, and fifteen shillings over, for my wage withAunt Flint comes exactly to three pounds a quarter. The fifteenshillings will find me in boots and house shoes, Miss Jasmine; and asmy 'at is fresh trimmed, and I have enough cotton dresses to go onwith, you are more than welcome to the two pound five. "

"We will arrange it so, then, " said the editor. "Miss Mainwaring, youmust give me your address, and you shall receive proofs in a day ortwo. This sum of money provides for the appearance of the firstinstalment of your story. From the sale of the hundred copies you willbe provided with funds for the second instalment, and so on. "

"But how am I to pay Poppy back if I must give you the money that Iget for the magazines?" asked Jasmine, her face becoming more crimsoneach moment. 

"Ah! that, " said the editor, with a slightly sarcastic smile, "that issurely not my affair. "

After this a few comparatively trivial arrangements were made. Jasminegave the address of the Palace Beautiful to Mr. Potter, and walkeddownstairs, feeling excited, pleased, and disappointed. 

"Oh, Poppy!" she said, "how light, how very light your purse is. "

"No, Miss Jasmine, " answered Poppy, "you're out altogether there, forfifteen shillings in silver weighs more than three pounds in gold. It's my heart, not my purse, that's light, Miss Jasmine--it has doneme a sight of good to help you, Miss Jasmine; I know he is a cheat inthere, but never mind, when your pretty, beautiful tale appearsthere'll be a run on it, I think, and that _Joy-bell_ will be askedfor high and low. You'll pay me back, never fear, and I'll be realproud to my dying day to feel that I was the first to help you. "

That evening, as Jasmine and Daisy sat together waiting for Primroseto return, Daisy said suddenly--

"Did you soar to-day, Jasmine, when you took Poppy's wages to haveyour story printed?--was that what you call a soaring flight?"

Daisy spoke innocently, and with real desire for information, but ather words Jasmine covered her face and burst into tears. 

"What a cruel remark, Eyebright, " she said. "Do you know I'm quitemiserable about this; I've been getting more and more wretched eversince I left that man's office. Suppose, Daisy, I don't sell a hundredcopies of _The Joy-bell_; then I shall never be able to have any moreof my story printed, and I shall never have it in my power to payPoppy back. I think I must have yielded to temptation that time;perhaps I'm nothing but a vain little girl, and think myself clevererthan I am. "

"Oh, I'm sure you're a genius, Jasmine, " said Daisy. "I know, for Ihave studied your face a great deal; in the story-books I generallynotice that the geniuses have the same kind of face that youhave--they generally have a little discontented, surprised look aboutthem. I admire the expression very much myself, and sometimes when I'malone--for you know you and Primrose have to leave me a good dealalone--I try to practice it before the glass. I think it's mostlydone with a rise of the eyebrows, but I never can keep mine up longenough. "

Jasmine laughed. 

"I do hope I am a genius, " she said; "I have always longed so to beone. If I really am, it will be all right about Poppy's money, for, ofcourse, the public will try to buy my story. It's really rather astriking story, Daisy. There's a girl in it who does such wonderfullyself-denying things--she never thinks of herself for a moment--she isvery poor, and yet she earns money in all sorts of delightful ways, and supports her family--she has got two sisters--they are not half asclever as she is at earning money. The story begins by the sistersrather despising Juliet, but in the end they find out how much she isworth. The leading idea in the story is the inculcation ofunselfishness--oh dear! oh dear! I hope I shall prove myself a geniusin having developed this character. If so, I shall be able to payPoppy back. "

"There is something so beautiful in unselfishness, " said Daisy, in arather prim, moralizing little tone. "Do you know, Jasmine, that I wasonce going to be frightfully selfish?--I should have been but for thePrince, but he spoke to me; he made up a lovely little story, and hetold me about the Palace Beautiful. "

"I never can make out why you call these rooms the Palace Beautiful, Daisy, " said Jasmine. 

"It's because of the way they've been furnished, " said Daisy. "Theyare full of Love, and Self-denial, and Goodness. I do so dearly liketo think of it. I lie often on the sofa for hours, and make up storiesabout three fairies, whom I call by these names; they are quiteplaymates for me, and I talk to them. I often almost fancy they arereal, but the strange thing is, Jasmine, they will only come to mewhen I have tried to be unselfish, and cheerful, and done my best tobe bright and happy. Then Goodness comes, and makes the walls shinewith his presence, and Self-denial makes my sofa so soft and easy, andLove gives me a nice view through the window, for I try to take aninterest in all the men and women and little children who pass, andwhen I sit at the window and look at them through Love's glass youcannot think how nice they all seem. I told the Prince about it oneday, and he said that was making a real Palace Beautiful out of ourrooms. "

Jasmine sighed. 

"I hear Primrose's step, " she said. "Oh, Daisy! you are a darling! howsweetly you think. I wonder if these rooms could ever come to mean aPalace Beautiful to me! I don't think fairies could come to me here, Daisy. I don't think I could see things through their eyes. I want mypalace to be much larger and grander than this. Perhaps if I am a realgenius it will come to me through my story; but, oh! I hope I did notdo wrong in taking Poppy's money. "

"No, for you are a genius, " said little Daisy, kissing heraffectionately. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

ENDORSING A CHEQUE. 

Primrose's life was very busy at this time. Certainly nothing could bemore irksome than the daily task of reading to poor Mrs. Mortlock, butthe fifteen shillings a week which she now earned regularly was awonderful help to the household purse, and Primrose performed herirksome duties with a cheerful, and even thankful heart. Her anxietiesabout Daisy were almost laid to rest. Since the child had been movedto Miss Egerton's house she seemed quite a changed creature. Her oldcheerfulness and sweet calm were returning to her. Morning aftermorning she bade Primrose good-bye with a bright smile on her littleface, and however long and dull her day was, she greeted her sisterhappily at night. What, therefore, was poor Primrose's consternationto find, on returning home the evening after Jasmine had madearrangements for the publication of her manuscript not only Jasmine, but Miss Egerton and Bridget all surrounding poor little Daisy, wholay on the sofa with a ghastly white face, and burst into nervoustroubled weeping whenever she was spoken to. 

"We found her in such a queer state, " said Jasmine; but Miss Egertonheld up a warning hand. 

"Let it rest now, my dear, " she said; "we need not go into the storyin Daisy's presence; she wants perfect quiet. Primrose, she has beenlonging so for you; will you sit down by her, and hold her hand?"

Daisy opened her eyes when she heard Primrose's name, and held up ahot little hand to her sister, who clasped it very firmly. 

"I want to speak to you all by yourself, Primrose, " she whispered. "Please ask Jasmine, and Miss Egerton, and Bridget to go away. I wantto say something most important to you. "

"Leave us for a moment, " said Primrose to the others; and Jasmine wentdown with Miss Egerton to the sitting-room. 

The moment Daisy found herself quite alone with Primrose she raisedher head, ceased crying, and looked at her sister with bright feverisheyes, and cheeks that burned. 

"Primrose, " she said, "would you think it very, very wrong of me if Idid something that wasn't in itself the very best thing to do, butsomething that I had to do to prevent a dreadful ogre putting me downinto a dark dungeon? Would it be very wrong of me to do a very littlething to prevent it, Primrose?"

"My darling, " said Primrose, "your poor little head must be wandering. I don't understand what you mean, my dear little one. Of course itwould be only right of you to keep away from an ogre, and not to allowone to touch you--but there are no ogres. Daisy love--there never weresuch creatures. You need not make yourself unhappy about beings thatnever existed. The fact is, Daisy, you are too much alone, and yourlittle head has got quite full of the idea of fairies. I must ask Mr. Noel not to talk to you in so fanciful a manner. "

"Oh don't, Primrose, for it is my one and only comfort. Oh! I am gladyou think I ought to keep out of the ogre's power. He is a dreadful, dreadful ogre, and he has tried to get into the Palace, and I amawfully afraid of him. "

Then Daisy laughed quite strangely, and said, in a wistful littlevoice--

"Of course, Primrose, this is only fairy-talk. I always was fond offairies, wasn't I? Primrose, darling, I want you to do a little thingfor me, will you?"

"Of course, Daisy. Why, how you are trembling, dear!"

"Hold my hand, " said Daisy, "and let me put my head on your shoulder. Now I'll ask you about the little thing, Primrose; there's yourletter from Mr. Danesfield on the table. "

"Has it come?" said Primrose; "I am glad. I expected it yesterdaymorning. "

"It's on the table, " repeated Daisy. "Will you open it, Primrose? I'dlike to see what's inside. "

"Oh, there'll be nothing very pretty inside, darling; it is probably apostal order for our quarter's money. "

"Yes, but let me see it, Primrose. "

Primrose moved slowly to the table, took up the letter, and opened it. 

"It's just as I said, Daisy, " she remarked, "only, no--it's not apostal order, it's a cheque. I must write my name on the back, andtake it to the Metropolitan Bank to cash to-morrow. "

"Let me see you writing your name on the back, please, Primrose, " saidDaisy, in a queer, constrained little voice. 

Primrose smiled to herself at the child's caprice but, taking up apen, she put her signature across the back of the cheque. 

"May I take it in my hand, Primrose?" said Daisy. "Oh, thank you! Myhand shakes, doesn't it? but that's because I'm so dreadfully subjectto starts. Isn't it funny, Primrose, to think that this little papershould mean a lot of golden sovereigns? Doesn't it make you feel richto have it, Primrose?"

"It makes me feel that with it and the help of my weekly salary weshall be able to pay for our bread and butter, Daisy. "

Daisy turned ghastly white. 

"Oh, yes, " she said, "oh, yes, dear Primrose. Will you put the chequeback into the envelope, and may I sleep with it under my pillow? I'llstay so quiet and still, and I'll not start at all if I have thecheque that you have signed under my pillow. "

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

DAISY'S REQUEST. 

Primrose was so anxious to soothe Daisy that she allowed her without amoment's hesitation to have her way. The moment the child felt her hotlittle fingers clasping the letter with its precious enclosure shebecame quiet, and ceased to speak. Primrose had undressed her, andplaced her in bed, and she now turned her back on her sister, andstill clasping the letter tightly, closed her eyes. Primrose hoped shewas asleep, and went softly out of the room to talk over matters withJasmine and Miss Egerton. Miss Egerton could throw no light on thesubject of Daisy's queer attack, and when Primrose at last went to bedshe had to own that her anxieties with regard to her little sister hadreturned. 

The next morning she was obliged to leave earlier than usual, andrather to Daisy's astonishment, and very much to her relief, saidnothing about Mr. Danesfield's letter. Primrose had not forgotten theletter, but she knew she would not be able to go to the bank thatday, and she thought it would comfort Daisy to take care of it. 

"Jasmine, " she said to her second sister, "must you go out thismorning? I think it is hardly well to leave Daisy alone. "

Jasmine's face clouded over. 

"Have you forgotten, Primrose, that Miss Egerton and Mr. Noel were totake me to South Kensington Museum to-day? They arranged that I shouldgo with them quite a week ago, and it would never do to put them offagain now. I'll tell you what I'll do, Primrose; I'll take Daisy too;I'll see that she is not over tired, and Mr. Noel will take great careof her; they are very fond of each other. "

"Try to arrange it so, then, Jasmine, " said Primrose; "for I do notfeel happy about her being left. "

Primrose went away to spend her day as usual with Mrs. Mortlock, andsat down to her "continual reading" with a heavy heart. 

Mrs. Mortlock was losing her sight rapidly--cataract was forming onher eyes, and she could now only dimly see the face and form of heryoung companion. Primrose, however, always managed to soothe thesomewhat irascible old lady, and was already a prime favorite withher. 

To-day she took up the newspaper with a heavy heart, and the anxietywhich oppressed her made itself felt in a certain weary tone whichcame into her voice. 

Mrs. Mortlock was fond of Primrose, but was never slow in expressingan opinion. 

"Crisp up, Miss Mainwaring, " she said; "crisp up a little; drawlingvoices give me the fidgets most terribly. Now, my dear, try to fancyyourself in the House of Commons; read that speech more animated, mylove. Ah, that's better!"

Primrose exerted herself, and for a few minutes the reading came up toits usual standard, but then, again, thoughts of Daisy oppressed theyoung reader, and once more her voice flagged. 

"There, my dear, you had better turn to the bits of gossip; they aremore in your line, I can see, this morning. Dear, dear, dear! I can'ttell what's come to girls these days; they don't seem to find no heartnor pleasure in anything. Now, if there is a girl who, in my opinion, has fallen on her feet, it's you, Miss Mainwaring; for, surely, thehandsome salary I allow is earned with next to no trouble. When once agirl can read she can read continual, and that's all I ask of you. "

"I'm sorry, " said Primrose; "some things at home are troubling me, andI cannot help thinking about them. I shall do better over the gossip. "

"That's right, my love! I'd ask you about the home troubles, but mynerves won't stand no worriting. Get on with the gossip, dear, andmake your voice chirrupy and perky, as though you saw the spice of itall, and enjoyed it--do. "

Just at this moment, while poor Primrose was trying to train herunwilling voice, the door was opened, and Poppy, red in the face, andwith her best hat and jacket on, came in. 

"Miss Primrose, I'm come to say good-bye, I am. No, Mrs. Mortlock, when about to quit I don't fear you no longer--not all the Sarahs inEurope would have power over me now. I'm going. Aunt Flint and me wehas quarrelled, and I has given her fair warning, and I'm going backto my native place, maybe this evening. Never no more will this cityof wanities see me. I'm off, Miss Primrose; I leaves Penelope Mansionnow, and I go straight away to your place to bid Miss Jasmine and MissDaisy good-bye. "

"For goodness sake, Sarah Matilda Ann!" here interrupted Mrs. Mortlock, speaking with great excitement, "before you go see you bringme up my beef-tea--Mrs. Flint won't give it a thought, and my nerveswon't keep up without the nourishment. Run down to the kitchen thisminute, Sarah Mary, and bring me up the beef-tea, and a nice littledelicate slice of toast, done to a turn, to eat with it. Mind you, don't let the toast get burnt, for if I can't see I can taste, andwell know when my toast is burnt. "

Poppy was about to give a saucy answer, but a look from Primroserestrained her, and before she left Penelope Mansion she had providedthe old lady with her luncheon. Primrose said a few words of farewelland regret, and then Poppy set out, determined to take her chance offinding Jasmine and Daisy at home. 

"I'll go back to my own place to-night, " she said to herself, "andtell my mother that wanity of wanities is London--my fifteen shillingswill just buy me a single third, and I needn't eat nothing untilto-morrow morning. "

When Poppy arrived at Miss Egerton's she was told by Bridget that MissJasmine was out, but that she would find Miss Daisy by herselfupstairs. Poppy ran nimbly up the stairs, and knocked at thesitting-room door; there was no answer, and turning the handle, shewent in. Daisy was lying with her face downwards on the sofa--sobs andquivers shook her little frame, and for a time she did not even hearPoppy, who bent over her in some alarm. 

"Now, Miss Daisy, darling, I'm real glad I has come in--why, what isthe matter, missie?"

"Nothing, Poppy; nothing indeed, " said Daisy, "except that I'm mostdreadfully unhappy. If I was a really quite unselfish little girl I'dgo and live in a dungeon, but I couldn't do it--I couldn't, really. "

Whatever Poppy was, she was practical--she wasted no time trying tofind out what Daisy meant, but bringing some cold water, she bathedthe child's face and hands, and then she made her take a drink ofmilk, and finally, she lifted her off the sofa, and sitting down in anarm-chair, took her in her arms, and laid her head on her breast. 

"There now, pretty little dear, you're better, aren't you?"

"My body is better, thank you, Poppy--I like to feel your arms holdingme very tight. My mind will never, never be well again, dear Poppy. "

"Would it ease it to unburden?" said Poppy. "Sometimes it's awonderful soother to speak out about what worries one. At Aunt Flint'sI used to let fly my worries to the walls for want of a betterconfidant. You think over about unburdening to me, Miss Daisy. I'llpromise to be a safe receptacle. "

Daisy shook her head mournfully. 

"It would be no use, " she said; "even telling now would be no mannerof use. Oh, Poppy, I wish I had been strong enough, and I wish sodreadfully I had not minded about the dungeon. If the Prince was herehe would say I ought not to live any longer in the Palace Beautiful, and I don't think the rooms do look like the rooms of a palaceto-day. Please, Poppy, look round you, and see if you can see anygoodness shining on the walls, and if you can see through Love's glassinto the street. "

"Oh lor! no, Miss Daisy; I'm not so fanciful. The walls is just fairlyneat, and the windows, they're just like any other attic windows. Now, missy, you're just fairly worn out, and you shall shut your eyes andgo to sleep. "

Poor little Daisy was so weary and weak that she absolutely did closeher eyes, and comforted and soothed by Poppy's presence, she fell intoa short and uneasy doze. She awoke in about an hour, and lay quitestill, with her eyes wide open. Poppy said something to her, but shereplied, in an imploring tone. 

"Please let me think. I had a dream when I was asleep. I did somethingin the dream, and I think I'll do it now really--only you must let methink Poppy. "

"Think, away, pretty little miss, " said Poppy: "and while you areworriting your poor little brain over thoughts I'll take it upon me toprepare a bit of dinner for you. "

Poppy made some tea, and boiled an egg, and toasted some bread to alight and tempting brown. When the meal was prepared she brought it toDaisy, who said wistfully--

"If I do what I want I must be strong, so I'll eat up that egg, andI'll take some toast, and you must take something too, Poppy. "

"Seeing as I can't get no meal till to-morrow morning I'm not inclinedto refuse a good offer, " said Poppy. "You don't know, missy, as I'mgoing back to my native 'ome to-night. "

"Poppy, " said Daisy, suddenly, taking no notice of this remark, "doyou know if Mrs. Ellsworthy is a very rich woman?"

"Mrs. Ellsworthy of Shortlands?" said Poppy; "why, in course; eversince I can remember, my mother has said to me, 'Poppy, child, themthere Ellsworthys is made of money. '"

"Made of money, " repeated Daisy, a little shadowy smile coming to herface; "then they must be really rich. Do you think, Poppy, that Mrs. Ellsworthy is rich enough to give away £17 10_s. _ to buy the dailybread, and to help a little girl who could not help being selfish outof a dreadful dark dungeon? Mrs. Ellsworthy has always been very kind, and I used to love her when I lived at home, but if I thought she wasnot really very, very rich, I would not ask her, for that might beputting _her_ to great trouble. Losing money makes one's heart acheterrible, Poppy, and I would rather bear my own heartache than give itto another person. "

"Mrs. Ellsworthy is made of money, " repeated Poppy, "and £17 10_s. _would be no more than a feather's weight to her. All the same, I can'tmake out what you're driving at, Miss Daisy. "

"I wonder if Mrs. Ellsworthy is at Shortlands now, " continued Daisy. 

"To be sure she is, Miss Daisy; shall I take her any message when Igoes back home?"

"Oh, no, Poppy, thank you very much. Poppy, I wish you had not lentall that money to Jasmine two days ago--you have not any money in yourpocket now, have you, Poppy?"

Poppy gave a slight sigh. 

"Just the price of a third single to Rosebury, and no more, MissDaisy, darling. "

"Oh, dear me, " said Daisy, "it's just exactly that much money whichwould make me perfectly happy. Must you go to Rosebury to-night, Poppy?"

"Well, missy, I'd do something to make you 'appy, but I don't knowwhere to go if I don't go to my home--to be sure, Aunt Flint wouldgive her eyes to get me back again, but I fears that even for you, Miss Daisy, I can't bear no more of that Sarah game. "

"But don't you think you might be able to bear it just for a week, Poppy? If I loved you always and always all the rest of my life, doyou think you could bear it just for one little week longer? I'd besure to let you have the money back again then, dear Poppy. "

Poppy gazed hard at the child, who was sitting upright on her sofa, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining, and a fitful quiverabout her pretty lips. 

"What does it all mean?" thought practical Poppy; "it's more thancommon worries ails the little dear. I'm sure I'd bear Sarah to mydying day to help her, the sweet lamb! I wonder, now, has she lostsome of Miss Primrose's money. I know they're short enough of means, the darling ladies, and maybe the child has mislaid some of theirmoney, and is frightened to tell. Dear me, I shouldn't think MissPrimrose would be hard on any one, least of all on a sweet little lamblike that; but there's never no saying, and the child looks pitiful. Well, I'm not the one to deny her. "

"Miss Daisy, " said Poppy, aloud, "I have got exactly fifteen shillingsin my purse, and that's the price of a third single to Rosebury, andno more. It's true enough I meant to go down there to-night, and neverto see Aunt Flint again, but it's true also that she'd give her eyesto have me back, and was crying like anything when I said good-bye toher. 'Sarah, ' she says, 'it's you that's ongrateful, and you'll findit out, but if you comes back again you shall be forgiven, Sarah, ' shesays. So I can go back for a week, Miss Daisy, and if you have lostfifteen shillings, why, I can lend it to you, dearie. "

"Oh, Poppy, you are a darling!" said little Daisy. "Oh, Poppy, how canI ever, ever thank you? Yes, I have--lost--fifteen shillings. Youshall have it back again, Poppy, and Poppy, I will always love you, and always remember that you were the best of good fairies to me, andthat you took me out of the power of a terrible ogre. "

"All right, Miss Daisy, " said Poppy, returning the child's embrace;"here's the fifteen shilling, and welcome. Only I never would havecalled sweet Miss Primrose an ogre, Miss Daisy. "

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE JOURNEY. 

Poppy went away presently, and the moment she was gone Daisy began tomake some hasty little preparations. 

"I'll take the Pink with me, " she said to herself. "I'll empty all thethings out of my little work-basket, and my darling Pink can sleep init quite snugly, and she'll be great company to me, for I cannot helpfeeling very shaky, and I do start so when I see any one the leastlike Mr. Dove in the distance. I mustn't think about being frightenednow--this is the least I could do, and if I'm terrified all over Imust go through with it. "

Then Daisy wrote a tiny note--a little note on half a sheet ofpaper--which she tore out of her copy-book. It was blotted with tearsand almost illegible. This was what she said:--

"Primrose, darling, I and the Pink, we have gone away for a littlebit. Your money is lost, Primrose, and I cannot look you in the faceuntil I get it back again. Don't be a bit frightened about me--I andthe Pink will come back when we have got the money. 

 "Your loving little "DAISY. "

This note was left open on the table to greet Primrose when she camein, and then Daisy buttoned on her little jacket, and put on herstrongest pair of boots, and the neat little hat which Primrose hadtrimmed for her the week before, and popping the Pink into herwork-basket, she stole softly downstairs and out of the house withoutold Bridget, who was busily engaged in the back kitchen, hearing her. 

The poor little maid got into the street just when the shades ofevening were beginning to fall. She had the Pink in her basket, andfifteen shillings clasped tightly inside one of her gloves. Fifteenshillings paid for a third single to Rosebury, and she was going toRosebury--so far her plans were definite enough; beyond this broadfact, however, all was chaos. 

Daisy knew very little more about London than she had known ninemonths before, when first she and her sisters arrived in the greatcity. She had gone out much less than the other two, and she had nevergone alone. Whenever she had walked abroad she had gone with acompanion. 

Now her only companion was the Pink, and the poor little heart feltvery lonely, and the little feet trembled as they walked along thepavement. 

She had been so terrified about Poppy finding out what she reallywanted to do with the fifteen shillings that she had been afraid toask her any questions about Rosebury. She had not an idea from whatrailway station she was to go, and she feared, as she walked throughthe streets, that she might have to walk many miles. 

At first she walked very rapidly, for she was anxious to get out ofMr. Dove's neighborhood, and she also thought it just possible thatshe might meet Primrose or Jasmine returning home. Besides the fifteenshillings which were to pay for her ticket she had threepence of herown in her pocket. When she had walked about half an hour, and thoughtthat she had gone a long way, and felt quite sure that she could notbe very far from the railway station which led to Rosebury, the Pinkawoke, and twisting and turning in her narrow basket began to mewloudly. 

"Oh, poor Kitty Pink, " said Daisy, "she must be wanting her supper, poor dear little kitty! I'm not at all hungry myself, but I think Iought to buy a penno'th of milk for my kitty. I'll just go into thatshop over there--I see that they sell bread and milk. Perhaps they'llgive me some bread and milk for kitty for a penny, and oh, perhapsthey will know if I am near the right railway station for Rosebury. "

Summoning up all her courage, for Daisy was naturally a timid child, she ventured into the shop, and having asked for some bread and milkfor her cat, which was given with a little stare of amusement by agood-natured looking woman, she put her important question in a veryfaltering voice. 

"Rosebury, my little dear?" said the shopwoman; "no, I never heard ofthe place. Is it anywhere near London, love?"

"No, " said Daisy; "it's miles and miles away from London. I know thecounty it's in--it's in Devonshire and a third single costs fifteenshillings, and I have got fifteen shillings in my glove. Now, perhaps, you'll know where it is. "

"In Devonshire?" repeated the woman. "And a third single costs fifteenshillings? Surely, miss, you are not going all that long way byyourself?"

"Yes, " said Daisy, in a dignified little tone. "I'm obliged to go. Thank you very much for Pussy's milk. How much am I to pay? Oh, apenny? Thank you. Good evening. "

The Pink was once more shut down into her basket, and Daisy hurriedout of the shop. The good-natured woman stared after her, and felthalf inclined to call her back; but, like many another, she reflectedthat it was no affair of hers. The child went on to the end of thelong street, and then stood at a corner where several omnibuses cameup. A conductor, seeing her wistful little face, jumped down from hisstand, and asked her if she wanted to go anywhere. 

"To Rosebury, in Devonshire, " said poor little Daisy. "It's fifteenshillings a single third. "

The man smiled at the anxious little face. 

"You want to get to Devonshire, missy, " he said. "Then I expectWaterloo's your line, and this here 'bus of mine goes there. Jump in, missy, and I'll put you down at the right place. "

"I've only got two pennies, " said Daisy, "Will two pennies pay for adrive to Waterloo for me and kitty?"

The man smiled, and said he thought he might manage to take her toWaterloo for that sum. 

CHAPTER XL. 

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 

There are little girls of ten years old who in the present day arepossessed of a large amount of self-possession. Some of these littlemaids are, in their own way, quite womanly--they can ask their waywithout faltering, and they can even walk about alone in a great worldlike London without losing themselves. 

But to this class of self-possessed little girls Daisy Mainwaring didnot belong. She had a charming, babyish little face, and was somethingof the baby still in the confiding and wistful way in which she leanedon others for support. Daisy was, perhaps, in all particulars youngerthan her years. When at last, after inconceivable difficulties--afterbeing jostled about by an indifferent crowd, and pushed rudely againstby more than one stupid, blundering porter--she did find her way tothe right ticket-office, and did secure her single third to Rosebury, and then get a very small allowance of room in a crowded third-classcarriage her heart was beating so loudly that she almost wondered itdid not burst. The great train, however, moved out of the terminus, and Daisy felt herself whirling away through the night, and then shebecame conscious of a little sensation of thankfulness. Surely theworst of her journey was over now; surely she and the Pink would bereceived very kindly and very lovingly by Mrs. Ellsworthy; surely Mrs. Ellsworthy would listen with full credence to the little tale Daisywould make up about an ogre having stolen away her money, and wouldhasten to fill the poor empty little purse from her own abundantstores. Daisy thought such happy and hopeful thoughts as she wascommencing her weary journey, and then she clasped the basket whichcontained the Pink tightly in her little arms, and presently, fromsheer weariness, dropped asleep. When the little head bobbed forwardtwo or three times a good-natured neighbor put her arm round thechild, and after a little even took her into her arms, where Daisy, after many hours of deep slumber, awoke. The night train to Roseburywent very slowly, stopping at every little wayside station, andsometimes seeming to the exasperated passengers scarcely to move atall; but all these weary hours Daisy slumbered peacefully, and whenshe awoke the sun was shining brightly, and a new day had begun. 

"Well, my dear, you have had a hearty sleep, " said the good-naturedwoman; "and where are you bound, if I may make so bold as to ask, little miss?"

"I am going to Rosebury, " said Daisy. "Oh! how kind of you to let mesleep in your arms. I've had quite a nice nap, and I'm not so verytired. Thank you very much for being so very good to me. Are we nearRosebury now, please?"

"In half an hour you'll get there, dear. Now I must say good-bye, forthis is my station. Good-bye, missy, and a safe journey to you. "

"I'm so sorry you are going away, " said Daisy, and she raised herlittle lips to kiss her friend. 

"God bless you, love, " said the nice, pleasant-faced woman, and thenshe got out of the carriage, nodding her head to Daisy as she walkedaway. 

The loneliness which had more or less been soothed or kept in abeyanceby this good woman's company now returned very strongly, and Daisy hadto feel a certain empty little purse which she held in her pocket tokeep up her resolution. She did not seem so certain about Mrs. Ellsworthy being nice and kind as she was the night before. Thethird-class carriage in which she had travelled was now nearly empty, and when she at last arrived at Rosebury she was the only passenger toalight. She gave up her ticket and walked out of the station, aforlorn and unnoticed little personage. It was still very early in themorning, not quite six o'clock, and there were very few people about, and the whole place had a strange, deserted, and unhomelike feeling. Could this be the Rosebury where Daisy was born, where she had been sopetted and loved? She did not like its aspect in the cold grey morninglight. There was a little drizzling mist falling, and it chilled herand made her shiver. 

"I know I've been very, very selfish, " she kept murmuring to herself. "I oughtn't to have minded the dungeon. I ought not to have been soterrified at the ogre. I'm afraid God is angry with me for being sodreadfully selfish, and for letting the ogre take Primrose's money. Ialways did think the sun shone at Rosebury, but perhaps even the sunwon't get up because he is angry with me. "

Daisy knew her way down the familiar and straggling village street, but there were one or two different roads to Shortlands, and shebecame puzzled which to take, and what with the drizzling rain, andher own great fatigue of body, soon really lost her way. 

An early laborer going to work was the first person she met. She askedhim eagerly if she was on the right road; but he answered her sogruffly that she instantly thought he must be a relation of Mr. Dove'sand ran, crying and trembling, away from him. The next person she cameacross was a little boy of about her own age, and he was kind, andtook her hand, and put her once more in the right direction, so that, foot-sore and weary, the poor little traveller did reach thelodge-gates of Shortlands about nine o'clock. 

But here the bitterest of her disappointments awaited her, for thewoman who attended to the gates said, in a cold and unsympathizingvoice, that the family were now in London, and there was no usewhatever in little miss troubling herself to go up to the house. Nouse at all, the woman repeated, for she could not tell when the familywould return, probably not for several weeks. Daisy did not ask anymore questions, but turned away from the inhospitable gates with aqueer sinking in her heart, and a great dizziness before her eyes. Shehad come all this weary, weary way for nothing. She had taken dearPoppy's last money for nothing. Oh, now there was no doubt at all thatGod was very angry with her, and that she had been both wicked andselfish. She had still twopence in her pocket--for the good-naturedomnibus conductor had paid her fare himself. She would go to thenearest cottage and ask for some milk for the Pink, and then shewondered--poor, little, lonely, unhappy child--how long it would takeher to die. 

CHAPTER XLI. 

MRS. DREDGE TO THE RESCUE. 

High tea at Penelope Mansion was an institution. Mrs. Flint said inconfidence to her boarders that she preferred high tea to late dinner. She said that late dinner savored too distinctly of the mannishelement for her to tolerate. It reminded her, she said, of clerksreturning home dead-beat after a day's hard toil; it reminded her ofsordid labor, and of all kinds of unpleasant things; whereas high teawas in itself womanly, and was in all respects suited to the gentleappetites of ladies who were living genteelly on their means. Mrs. Flint's boarders were as a rule impressed by her words, and high teawas, in short, a recognized institution of the establishment. 

On the evening of the day when poor little Daisy had disappeared fromher Palace Beautiful Mrs. Flint's boarders were enjoying their genteelrepast in the cool shades of her parlor. They had shrimps for tea, andeggs, and buttered toast, and a small glass dish of sardines, to saynothing of a few little dishes of different preserves. Mrs. Dredge, who was considered by the other ladies to have an appetite the reverseof refined, had, in addition to these slight refreshments, a muttonchop. This she was eating with appetite and relish, while Miss Slowcumlanguidly tapped her egg, and remarked as she did so that it washollow, but not more so than life. Mrs. Mortlock, since thecommencement of her affliction, always sat by Mrs. Flint's side, andwhen she imagined that her companions were making use of their sightto some purpose she invariably requested Mrs. Flint to describe to herwhat was going on. On this particular evening the whole party weremuch excited and impressed by the unexpected return of Poppy, aliasSarah. 

"It took me all of a heap!" said Mrs. Flint; "I really thought thegirl was saucy, and had gone--but never a bit of it. If you'll believeme, ladies, she came in as humble as you please, and quite willing togo back to her work in a quiet spirit. 'Sarah, ' I said to her in themorning, 'you'll rue this day, ' and she did rue it, and to somepurpose, or she wouldn't have returned so sharp in the evening. She'sa good girl, taking her all in all, is Sarah, and being my own niece, of course I put up with a few things from her which I would not takefrom a stranger. "

"She spoke pretty sharp this morning about you, Mrs. Flint, to mycontinual reader, " said Mrs. Mortlock; "I wouldn't take no airs, if Iwas you, from Sarah Maria. Miss Slowcum, I'll trouble you for thepepper, please. Seeing that I'm afflicted, and cannot now use myeyesight, I think there might be a little consideration in the smallmatter of pepper shown to me, but feel as I will I can find it in noway handy. Thank you, Miss Slowcum; sorry to trouble you, I'm sure. "

"She grows more snappish each day, " whispered Miss Slowcum to Mrs. Dredge; but just then the attention of all the good ladies wasdiverted by a ringing peal at the hall door-bell, followed by eagervoices in the hall, and then by the entrance of Poppy, alias Sarah, who broke in upon the quiet of high tea with a red and startled face. 

"An awful trouble has happened, " she began, breathlessly. "Oh, ladies, you'll pardon me, but this is no time for standing on ceremony, whenmy own darling little lady, Miss Daisy Mainwaring, has gone and lefther sheltering home. "

"Good gracious! my continual reader's little sister!" exclaimed Mrs. Mortlock. "Left her home! you must be mistaken, Sarah Jane. "

"No, ma'am, it's a most sorrowful fact, " said poor Poppy, who lookedterribly dejected, and nearly sobbed as she spoke; "the other two dearyoung ladies has come for me, and I must go back with them. I'msorry, Aunt Flint, to part again so soon, but this is unexpected, andmy duty lies with my young ladies. "

"Your duty lies with your aunt, miss, " here exclaimed the exasperatedMrs. Flint. "Sarah, I was taking your part, but your airs are now paststanding. Ladies three, I feel convinced that this story is all amake-up. I don't believe for a moment the child has gone away. It's amake-up of Sarah's, who is turning into a most wicked girl. "

"I don't believe it, " here exclaimed Miss Slowcum. "Sarah Bertha hasspoken the truth, I feel convinced. I had a warning dream last night. I dreamt of white horses, and that always signifies very greattrouble. It's my belief that the poor dear innocent little child hasbeen murdered!"

"Murdered!" almost screamed Mrs. Mortlock. "Miss Slowcum, I'll thankyou to come and take the seat next me, my dear, and tell me all yourreasons in full for making this most startling remark. My dear, Idon't object to holding your hand while you're pouring forth the taleof woe. How and where, Miss Slowcum, did the child meet her death?"

Meanwhile, during this wrangling and fierce disputing, Mrs. Dredge, more kind-hearted than the others, had left the room. She had goneinto the hall, where Primrose and Jasmine stood side by side. She hadlistened to their bewildered and agitated little story, and thenasking them to sit down and wait for her, she had returned to theparlor. 

"Mrs. Flint, " she said, "I have been talking to the two elderMainwaring girls; they are in the hall. No, Mrs. Mortlock, you can'tsee Miss Primrose at present. The girls are in great trouble, for thelittle one has gone away, and there seems to be a mystery about itall. Your niece Sarah seems to be the last person who has seen thechild, Mrs. Flint, and, of course, Miss Primrose and Miss Jasmine wantto talk to her, and she had better go home with them. The friend theylive with, a Miss Egerton, left home this very afternoon to spend aweek in the country, and so the girls are quite defenceless, and havenobody to consult. That being the case, I'm going back with them alsoto their lodgings in a four-wheeler. Sarah Ann, go and fetch afour-wheeler this instant, and don't stand gaping. Mind, afour-wheeler, girl, and don't bring a hansom on no account near theplace. Yes, ladies, it's my duty to go with the poor orphans, and go Iwill. "

While Mrs. Dredge was speaking Mrs. Mortlock ceased to hold MissSlowcum's very thin hand. Miss Slowcum's face looked decidedlyjealous, for she would have dearly liked to have been herself in Mrs. Dredge's interesting and sympathizing position. Mrs. Mortlock raisedher almost sightless eyes to the fat little woman's face, and remarkedin a slightly acid voice--

"I'm obliged to you, Mrs. Dredge, for thinking that in the moment oftrial the sight of me and a sympathizing squeeze from my hand wouldhave done my continual reader any harm. It's very good-natured of youto go with the orphan girls, Mrs. Dredge, and I'm glad to think you'vejust had the support of your chop to sustain you under the fatigue. Please remember, Mrs. Dredge, that we lock up the house in this homeat ten o'clock, and no latch-keys allowed. Isn't that so, Mrs. Flint?"

"Under ordinary circumstances, quite so, ma'am, " answered Mrs. Flint, who would not have minded snubbing Miss Slowcum, but was anxious topropitiate both the rich widows; "under ordinary circumstances that isso, but in a dire moment like the present I think the ten minutes'grace might be allowed to Mrs. Dredge's kind heart. "

"Here's the four-wheeler!" exclaimed Mrs. Dredge. 

"Good-bye, ladies. If I'm not in at ten minutes past ten don't lookfor me until the morning. "

When Mrs. Dredge, Primrose, Jasmine, and Poppy got back to the girls'pretty sitting-room the good-natured little widow proved herself avery practical friend. First of all, she listened carefully to Poppy'saccount of all that had transpired that day. She then got Primrose totell her as much as possible about Daisy. All the child's distress andnervousness and unaccountable unhappiness were related, and the sagelittle woman shook her head several times over the narrative, and saidat last, in a very common-sense voice--

"It's as clear as a pikestaff to Jemima Dredge that that sweet littlechild has been tampered with. Somebody has been frightening the bit ofa thing, Miss Primrose, and it's for you to find out who that somebodyis. As to where she's gone? Why, she has gone back to where she wasborn, of course, and you and me will follow her by the first train inthe morning, my dear. "

"She was taking care of a cheque of mine for seventeen pounds tenshillings, " exclaimed Primrose, "and in her little note she speaks ofthe money being lost. I think nothing of the loss of the money besideDaisy, but, Mrs. Dredge, Jasmine and I cannot afford even athird-class ticket to Rosebury just at present. "

"Tut, tut, my dear, " said Mrs. Dredge, "what's the good of a fullpurse except to share it? My poor husband Joshua was his name--we wastwo J's, dear--he always said, 'Jemima, thank God the chandlery isprospering. A full purse means light hearts, Jemima. We can shedblessings with our means, Jemima. ' Those was Joshua's words, MissMainwaring, and I hear him now telling them to me from his grave. Youand me will go down to Rosebury in the morning, dear, and MissJasmine will stay at home with Sarah Mary for company, for there's nosense in waste, and one of you is quite enough to come. "

While this conversation was going on Bridget knocked at the girls'door, and presented Jasmine with a thick parcel, which had justarrived for her by post. It was some of the manuscript, and the firstproofs of her story. The parcel came to hand at a sorrowful moment, and Jasmine laid it on the sofa, made no comment about it, and did notattempt to open it. Primrose scarcely raised her head from her hands, and was not the least curious, but Poppy's eyes gleamed brightly, forsharp Poppy guessed what the parcel contained, and she sincerely hopedthat whatever happened this story would prove a great success, andthat it would bring in so many gold coins to her young lady that shewould become not only rich herself, but able to pay back what she hadborrowed from her. For although Poppy was the soul of generosity, she_did_ want her wages back. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

A NEW EMPLOYMENT. 

At an early hour the next morning Mrs. Dredge and Primrose started forRosebury, and poor Jasmine and Poppy prepared to have a long andlonely time by themselves. Poppy hoped that Jasmine would cheer up, and look at that lovely printed story of hers, and perhaps read italoud to her; but poor Jasmine was really nearly broken-hearted, andsaid once almost passionately--

"How can I look at it, Poppy, when I don't know where our littledarling is? Did she not share my secret? And she was so proud of meand she always would believe I was a genius. I can't look at it, Poppy--no, I can't; but if you like to open the manuscript, and readwhat is printed of the story, why you may. Yes, I expect you will findit exciting. Sit down and read it, Poppy, and I will go to the windowand look out. Oh, dear! oh, dear! Primrose promised to send me atelegram when she got to Rosebury. Oh, what shall I do if I don't soonhear some news of my darling little Daisy?"

"Seeing as I can't comfort you, Miss Jasmine, I may as well take toreading the mysterious, lovely story, " answered Poppy. "Maybe whenyou're having your dinner bye-and-bye, miss, you won't object to metelling you what I thinks of it. "

"Only I shan't care in the least what you think to-day, dear Poppy, "answered poor little Jasmine, in a tone of deep melancholy. 

She went and stood by the window, and Poppy ensconced herselfcomfortably on the sofa, and began to enjoy herself as best she couldunder the circumstances. 

In about an hour there came a tap at the door, and Arthur Noel camein. Jasmine gave a little pleased exclamation when she saw him; thenshe ran forward, took his hand in hers, and burst into tears. 

"Daisy is lost, " she said; "our sweet little Daisy, who loved you somuch, is lost. "

"It's inferred that she's gone down with a single third to Rosebury, sir, " here interposed Poppy. 

"Come and tell me all about it, Jasmine, " said Noel, in his mostsympathizing tones. He led the poor little girl to the sofa, and, sitting down by her, listened attentively to her story. 

"But the Ellsworthys are in London, " he said, when he heard that Daisyhad gone to them. 

On hearing this news poor Jasmine burst into floods of fresh weeping. 

"Oh, then she's sure to be quite lost!" she said. "Oh, Mr. Noel, ifyou are in any sense a true friend, won't you try to find her?"

"Yes, Jasmine; I will never rest until I find her. I am glad I came into-day. I came to ask you to do something for me, but I find you wantmy help instead. I will come here this evening, about the time yoursister is likely to be back, and I will then go and look for Daisy, incase she is not found. Don't be frightened, Jasmine, I am quite surewe shall soon get tidings of the dear little girl. "

"And do you know, " said Jasmine, who felt a little comforted, "that wehave not only lost Daisy, but all our quarter's money. It is mostmysterious. Primrose gave Daisy a check to take care of for her, andDaisy says she has gone away because the cheque is lost. We have nomoney now that the cheque is lost, except just what Primrose earnsfrom Mrs. Mortlock. "

"There's a likelihood of some more earnings presently, Miss Jasmine, "here interposed Poppy, in a cheerful voice; "there's a likelihood of agood bit more money when this powerful and thrilling romance ispublished. "

"Your story, Jasmine?" said Noel, "and in type? Who did you get topublish it, my dear child? Oh, you must let me read this. "

"Another time, please, Mr. Noel. I don't think I could quite bear itto-day, " said Jasmine. 

Noel looked at her earnestly. 

"I wonder, Jasmine, " he said, "even though you are in such trouble, ifyou would be brave enough to help _me_, and to earn a little money today? I want you to do quite a simple thing, and something you willprobably enjoy. I have never read any of your romances, but I haveoften noticed that you possess rather remarkable artistic tastes, andthat you have a very correct eye for the arrangement of color. I havebeen struck with this even in this little room, and I happened tomention my observations one day to a lady who is a friend of mine. That lady is giving a dinner-party to-night, and she wants some one toarrange the flowers on her table in as fresh and new a style aspossible. Will you come with me to her house now, and see what you cando? She will provide you with the flowers and the glasses to put theminto, and you can arrange them on the table just as you like best. Shewill give you a guinea for the work, and I think you will find itlight and pleasant. "

Jasmine's eyes began to sparkle. 

"Oh! at another time it would be delightful, " she said. 

"But don't you want a guinea very badly now? Don't you think you hadbetter put on your hat and come away with me, and try to earn it?"

"I will, " said Jasmine, with sudden enthusiasm. "Oh, Mr. Noel, howgood you are! How I wish I had a brother, and that you were he!"

Noel took Jasmine to his friend's house, where the little girl beganby being almost frightened, but soon forgot herself in the stronginterest of her pleasant work. Noel was right when he said Jasmine hadtrue artistic instincts. Certainly, hers was untaught genius, but herunerring taste came to her aid, and Mrs. Daintree's dinner-table neverlooked prettier or fresher than when the little maiden had completedher work. The room was bright and sunny, but Jasmine gave the table abower-like and cool effect, and she not only dressed the dinner-tablebut placed flowers here and there about the room. Mrs. Daintree wasdelighted, and asked the pretty little girl to come again to arrange adinner-table for her the following week. 

With her golden sovereign and her shilling tucked tightly away in herglove Jasmine did not feel altogether miserable as she went home; eventhough Daisy might still be lost, those first earnings were sweet. Sherushed upstairs and told her tale to Poppy, who sympathized mostwarmly with her. Very soon after her arrival a four-wheeler was heardto draw up to the door, and Mrs. Dredge alone returned. 

"I have left Primrose at Rosebury, " she said; "we have made inquiries, and there is no doubt a child resembling Daisy went down by the nighttrain yesterday. We have searched high and low, however, but cannot atpresent get any trace of her. Don't look so pale, Jasmine, she mustsoon be found. Primrose is staying with Miss Martineau, and they arenot leaving a stone unturned to find her. Most likely they have doneso by now. Don't cry, Jasmine; take example by your sister--she's afine plucky bit of a lass, and does not waste her time in tears whenthere's something to be done. "

"Yes, that's just it, " said Jasmine; Primrose has got something to do, but I haven't--I can do nothing to find my little darling! Oh, Mrs. Dredge, are not you awfully frightened about her?"

"Tut, tut, my dear, not a bit of it! Of course, when a little lassruns away all by herself there are most times difficulties in gettingtrace of her, but don't you be in a way, for they won't last long. "

Poor little Jasmine sighed, and all her deep depression returned. Shewas soothed again, however, by the sight of Noel, who came in verysoon afterwards. He said he had seen the Ellsworthys, and meant to godown to Rosebury by the night train. 

"I'm pleased to hear it, young man, " said Mrs. Dredge; "you're doingjust what my Joshua would have approved of had he been alive. Eventhough Joshua was in the chandlery line he had a truly noble heart, and one of his mottoes was that the strong should help the weak, andif shoulders are made broad they should carry big burdens, so you godown to Rosebury, young man, and prosper in your work. "

Noel smiled. 

"I will certainly do my best, " he said; "I quite agree with yourhusband's sentiments. "

"Well, well, young man, Joshua would have liked to know you in hisday. Dear, how stupid I am! but I didn't rightly catch your name. Whatare you pleased to call yourself, sir?"

"My name is Arthur Noel. "

"Well, what a small world we live in; it was only to-day I heard talkof you. When Miss Primrose and I were down at Rosebury we came acrossa gentleman of the name of Danesfield, and he came straight up to MissPrimrose and said he had had a letter from you which he had not beenable to answer, because he was away. He said a lot to Miss Primroseabout the letter you wrote him; it seems that somebody must havestolen three five-pound notes, which Mr. Danesfield put into a closedenvelope, and gave Miss Primrose for a kind of emergency fund whenshe left her home. The poor lassie turned as white as a sheet when hetalked to her. Well, young man, you look white enough yourself at thepresent moment, but I'll tell you, now, what has struck me, thatwhoever took the three five-pound notes helped himself or herself tothat cheque of Miss Primrose's, and that poor little Daisy knows aboutit. "

"I should not be the least surprised if you were right, Mrs. Dredge, "answered Noel. "Well, I must go now if I want to catch my train. Good-bye, Jasmine keep up your heart--expect good news soon, and getall the orders you can for dressing dinner-tables. "

CHAPTER XLIII. 

IN THE FIELD. 

Poor little Daisy, very faint and tired, and with a feeling of almostdespair in her little heart, presently crept through a gap in one ofthe hedges, and sat down on the grass in a large field. She was sofoot-sore she could not walk another step; she was also terribly weakfrom long fasting, and as she now had no hope at all of bringingPrimrose back her money, she felt disinclined to walk another step. 

"I suppose I'll soon die, " she said to herself. "I wonder if God willtake me to heaven? I know I was very selfish about the dungeon. Imight have gone to the dungeon, and dear Primrose would have had hermoney, and she and Jasmine would not have starved; but Mr. Dove did soterrify me I really had not courage. Please, dear Jesus, I had notcourage. I'm only a very weak, frightened little girl, and I gave Mr. Dove Primrose's money, and now I can't get it back from him, and Ithink my heart is broken. I know, Jesus, you are angry with me, butplease don't go on being angry; please forgive me, for I am all alonenow without Primrose and Jasmine, and I think I'll soon die, for Ifeel so very weak. I didn't tell a lie, either, Jesus; I never toldany one about Mr. Dove and the sticky sweetmeats--no, though I am acoward about the dungeon, I would not go so far as to break my word. Ioften longed to tell the Prince, for I felt he would deliver me fromthe ogre, but I couldn't tell a lie even to be saved. Please, Jesus, forgive me for being such a cowardly little girl. "

By this time the drizzling mist of the early morning had passed away, the sun had come out, and the robins and thrushes in the hedge closeto Daisy began to sing. They poured out full notes of thrillingsweetness and their music comforted the child, and she began to smilevery faintly to herself, and to hope that as God had let the sun comeout, and the birds sing, so He had forgiven her. 

The poor little Pink began to mew loudly in her basket, and Daisy lether out of her prison, and when kitty rubbed her soft head against herlittle mistress's sleeve the child felt some fresh thrills of comfort. She felt terribly disinclined to move, however, and was really moreweak and exhausted than absolutely hungry. The day wore on, and thelittle girl and her cat remained unnoticed in their corner of thelarge field. There was a right of way through the field, andfoot-passengers came and went, but Daisy in her sombre little blackdress failed to attract any attention. She was quite in the shadeunder her hedge-row, and it is to be doubted if any one saw her. Atlast from utter weariness she sank down on the ground and fell asleep. The Pink curled herself up by her little mistress's side and sleptalso. It was then that the sun, slowly travelling across the heavens, found them out in their shady corner, and kissed them, and madepussy's soft little grey coat shine. The child and the cat were thusmade visible, and attracted the attention of a woman who was walkingacross the field with a market-basket on her arm. She came up at onceto examine the little group; then she bent down close, then she gavean exclamation half of horror, half of delight, and then she took thesleeping child up in her arms, and covered her with passionate kisses. 

[Illustration: SHE CAME UP TO EXAMINE THE LITTLE GROUP. Palace B]

"Oh! my own little Miss Daisy--my own little darling precious lamb!And is it thus you have come back to your poor old Hannah again!"

Nothing could have comforted Daisy more under present circumstancesthan to find herself in her old nurse's arms. She quite gasped withthe joy and relief, and putting up her little hand to Hannah's face, she stroked it fondly. 

"Now, my darling, where have you come from? and what are you doing?and--why, if that isn't the little Pink, I declare! Now, my pet, tellme, have you all three come back to Rosebury again?"

"No, Hannah, I'm the only one who has come back. Oh Hannah, will youplease take me to our little cottage for a few hours--I should so liketo die there--I was born there, wasn't I, Hannah?"

"Yes, love, but you're not going to die there, nor nowhere else. Ican't take you back to the cottage, dearie, for it's let, and I'm notliving there. I've a little bit of a place of my own in the village ofTeckford and I keep a small shop, and don't do so bad. You must comehome now with me, darling. Oh, yes, you must--not a word must you sayagainst it; then, when you've rested, and have had some nice bread andmilk, you shall tell old Hannah your story; and if so be as you're inany trouble, why, your old nurse Hannah will set her wits to work tofind a way out of it. Now, my darling, I'm going to carry you to mycottage. "

Daisy was certainly very weak. She tried to expostulate withHannah--she tried to say that her one and only duty was to try and gettidings of Mrs. Ellsworthy's whereabouts, and then to follow her onfoot if necessary; but if the little spirit was willing, the flesh wasweak. The comfort of seeing her nurse again was too much forDaisy--the knowledge that those were the very arms which had carriedher as a baby, and soothed her and tended her as a little child, wasquite too cheering to be resisted. Daisy made a valiant effort to say"No, " but instead, her lips formed a faint "Yes, Hannah, take me toyour home, " and then Hannah, who was a strongly-built woman, liftedthe slight little girl in her arms, and carried her across the fieldsto her tiny cottage at Teckford. All the time, while she was beingcarried in those kind arms, Daisy kept repeating to herself, "I'llhave some bread and milk, for I am a little hungry, and I'll rest forperhaps an hour, and then I'll go away on foot with my dear Pink tofind Mrs. Ellsworthy. "

But when the child and the woman reached the house in the villageDaisy was too faint and weary to take more than a spoonful or two ofbread and milk, and long before the night arrived she had forgottenthat she meant to undertake any journey, and lay with burning cheeksand bright, feverish eyes on Hannah's bed in her little home. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

TOO MUCH FOR DOVE. 

Mrs. Dredge's remarks had by no means been lost on Noel. When he leftMiss Egerton's house he consulted his watch, and found that he hadstill an hour to spare before he need try to catch his train. Hethought for a moment or two, recalled certain expressions on Daisy'sface, certain words which dropped from her lips, and, above all, alook which had filled her pretty eyes on the one and only occasionwhen they had met Dove together. 

Noel began to feel more and more certain that this man, to whom he hadtaken a great dislike, had something to say to all the child's misery. Noel knew, however, that suspicion in such a case would be of littleavail--he must have certainty, and certainty could only be his bycautious and wary movements. 

Again he consulted his watch, and now he determined on a bold course. He remembered that the girls had once told him that Dove was a painterby trade, but that he seldom or never had anything to do. Noel wasextremely fastidious, and, if possible, almost over-refined in thearrangements of his own home. He made his little plan with a sigh, buthe would have done more than this for the sake of pretty little Daisy. 

Walking quickly, he soon found himself at the Doves' address in EdenStreet. His knock at the hall door was answered by Tommy Dove, whoassured him that both his father and mother were having high tea withshrimps and watercresses in the back parlor. 

Noel said he wanted to see Dove on business, and Tommy, remarking thatthe back parlor was as good a place as any other for this purpose, ushered the visitor in direct. 

"I believe you are a painter, " said Noel--"I have chambers atWestminster, and want to have my balcony and front windows painted. I've heard of you through the Miss Mainwarings, and as I'm in a hurryto get the job completed at once, I have called round to know if youare disengaged. "

"Of course you are, Dove, " said his wife. 

"Softly, my only love, " replied her husband. "Sir, be pleased to takea seat. I shall be glad to do my best for you, and any recommendationfrom the young ladies you mention is most gratifying to me. Sweetyoung ladies they was, and ever will be--and my wife and me, wemourns unceasing for their departure. "

"Speak for yourself, Dove, " said the wife--"we are doing better withour present attics than we ever did with our late attics. Sir, you'llexcuse me, but truthful I ever will be at all costs. "

"Can you paint my windows or not?" said Noel, rising to his feet, andspeaking with some asperity. "If you are too busy to undertake thework pray say so, and let me seek some one else, for my time isprecious. "

"Of course he'll do it, sir, " said Mrs. Dove. "Say yes to thegentleman, Dove, and thank him, and have done with it. "

"Well, sir, I am very busy, " said Dove. "I haven't a moment to call myown for weeks to come, but all the same, I wouldn't disoblige the lateattics for a good deal, so I'll just put off the Cooks, who are wildto get their house-cleaning through, and Mr. Martin, who keeps thebacon and 'am shop, must wait. Yes, sir, I wait your pleasure, sir--Ican come. "

"To-morrow morning, then, early, " said Noel, "this is my address. Askfor my servant when you arrive, and he will show you what you are todo, and will also give you directions as to the colored paint I wishused. I must hurry off now, for I'm going down to the country on somevery sad business. You will be sorry to hear, Mr. Dove, that MissDaisy Mainwaring has lost a considerable sum of money, and the poorlittle child is in such trouble about it that she has run away. Ofcourse, I don't believe for a moment that she has really lost themoney--of course it was stolen from her. Well, good-bye, I'm going toseek her, and to try to catch the thief. Be sure you arrive at myhouse in good time in the morning, Dove. "

"Yes, sir, very sorry to hear your bad news, " said Dove, in aself-possessed voice, but Arthur saw that his color had changed, andhe wanted no stronger clue to confirm his suspicions. When he got intothe street he not only consulted his watch, but a time-table. A latertrain than he had intended to travel by would take it to Roseburyearly in the morning. He would go by this train. Now he jumped into ahansom and drove to his chambers. His servant came to him, to whom hegave hasty directions. 

"You're to buy the paint yourself, Lawson; see that it is properlymixed, and the right shade. Move the plants from the balcony early inthe morning--the man will arrive in good time, and listen, Lawson, Idon't want him to be too closely watched. "

"What do you mean by that, sir?" said Lawson. 

"Only that you need not stay in the room all the time--come in andout, of course--but don't imagine the man to be a thief until he isproved such. "

"Well, sir, your commands must be obeyed, of course, but you have manyarticles of virtue and elegance about. "

"Never mind that, Lawson--do as I tell you. "

When his servant left the room Noel took a five-pound note out of hispocket, and enclosing it in an open envelope laid it carelessly on thechimney-piece. There was no writing on the envelope, and the notemight well have been slipped into it by mistake. Noel also slipped aring of some value from his finger, and dropped it into a little tray, which contained odds and ends of different descriptions. 

"Now I've laid my trap, " he said to himself. "My poor little Daisy, Ihope I may ensnare your ogre to his destruction. "

The next morning early Dove, well pleased with his job, and neverguessing that the smallest suspicions had attached themselves to him, arrived at Noel's rooms. He was a most idle man, and seldom cared forwork, but he was pleased at Noel's singling him out, and imagined thatnotwithstanding her running away, he owed this visit to little Daisy. 

"She's a pert little thing, " he said to himself, "and if she's so trueto me as all this, why I suppose I must leave her alone in the future. I made a nice little haul out of her the other day, and I've gotseveral of them sovereigns about me still; but lor, wasn't she in apiteous fright when I took that cheque away with me!"

Dove was highly pleased with the appearance of Noel's rooms. He couldsee no beauty in the simplicity of the girls' Palace Beautiful, butalthough he was quite incapable of judging of the value of thepictures and exquisite little statuettes which adorned the walls, hewas judge enough of the depth and richness of the Turkey rugs, and ofthe wealth which must have been expended over the very selectfurniture of Noel's sitting-room. 

Lawson, wondering much at his master's directions but supposing thatDove must be a very special _protégé_, received him with muchcordiality, gave him directions with regard to his work, and then lefthim alone. Dove painted and cleaned, and whistled as he worked; hefelt quite cheerful and virtuous, and began to consider that theposition of British workmen was not such a bad one after all. He feltmore and more pleased with Daisy Mainwaring for having put him in theway of such agreeable and profitable occupation, and more and moreresolved to leave her alone for the future. 

"Maybe if I was to talk to the pretty little dear she'd find me a dealmore jobs of this yere sort, " he said to himself. "A little lady sheis, and no mistake, and she keeps very genteel friends, as any one cansee with half an eye. "

After Dove had worked for two or three hours he began to feel thirsty, for he was quite unaccustomed to any continuous labor. The sun wasshining brightly on the balcony, and he was also a little hot, and theinside of Noel's room looked deliciously cool and inviting. He hadjust seen Lawson walking down the street, too, so he was quite sure ofhaving the premises to himself. Slipping off his shoes he stepped intothe room and began to look about him with an appreciative air. Hehandled some of Noel's choicest books, and looked through a portfolioof rare engravings but neither books nor engravings were quite inDove's way, and after a time he strolled over to the mantel-piece, ashe said, to see how he looked reflected in the over-mantel glass. There were letters there directed to Noel. Dove would have dearlyliked to acquaint himself with their contents, but he was a slow anddeficient reader. Some cigars lay in a little cigar-case at one end. Dove, as a matter of course, and without weighing the question at all, slipped a couple into his pocket. After doing this he did not feelquite so virtuous, nor so like the proverbial British workman; hejingled some of Daisy's sovereigns in his pocket, and laughed whenthey made a pleasant sound. Still eagerly peering at all the articleson the mantel-piece his quick eyes presently detected amongst a heapof rubbish and odds and ends Noel's valuable signet-ring; it was ofheavy workmanship, and its gold alone made it worth money. 

"Why, Isaacs the Jew would give me two pound ten, or perhaps threepounds for this, " queried Dove. "It has plainly been forgotten here, and if the gent does miss it he'll lay the blame on that fine fellowLawson. "

It took a very small parley with Dove's seared conscience to make himpocket the ring, and by the time Lawson returned to the house thefive-pound note had also been appropriated. Dove whistled morecheerily than ever over his work that afternoon, and in the evening hewent home quite unsuspecting any little trap which might have been setfor him. 

He had scarcely gone before a boy arrived with a telegram directed toLawson, and with a reply pre-paid. Lawson read the following words:--

"Look on the mantel-piece in my sitting-room for a blank envelope, open, which contains a five-pound note--No. 11267. I also left my ringin the cigar tray. Wire reply if note and ring are safe. --ARTHURNOEL. "

The address to reply to was added. 

Poor Lawson spent an agonized ten minutes in searching over thecontents of the mantel-piece. In the end he had to fill in the replytelegram with the news that nowhere could the five-pound note nor thering be found. 

A little over two hours passed, and again the worthy servant wasstartled by a telegraphic dispatch. This was what it contained:--

"Have reasons to believe that the painter Dove is the thief. Goinstantly to the nearest police-station, give them the number of thenote, and go with one of their staff to Dove's house. His address is, 10, Eden Street, Junction Road, Holloway. The note and ring willprobably be found on his person. Get him apprehended if possible. Takeall necessary cabs. --ARTHUR NOEL. "

Thus it came to pass that when that evening Dove sat down tranquillyto a luxurious supper of lobster salad, chops, and bottled stout, hewas unpleasantly interrupted. When two policemen, accompanied byLawson, came into his room, he was guilty of using very violentlanguage, and altogether conducted himself in a most excited manner;but, notwithstanding his resistance, and Mrs. Dove's hysterics, andsome terribly distressing chuckles, really sounding more like laughterthan tears, which were heard to issue from the lips of that naughtyboy, Tommy, a strict search of his person was instituted, and inconsequence he was that very night locked up in jail. 

Oh, if only poor little Daisy, tossing on her hot and feverish pillow, could have known!

CHAPTER XLV. 

THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE. 

Hannah was doing well in her little shop at Teckford. She had alwaysbeen a most saving body, and although Mrs. Mainwaring had never beenable to pay her high wages, she had managed to put the greater portionof what she received away. Hannah was one of those fortunateindividuals on whom even a shabby dress will look neat. Her bootslasted twice as long as any one else's, her caps retained their starchand their whiteness long after another servant's would have had to beresigned to a fresh cleaning process. Hannah therefore required littleor no money to spend on dress, and in consequence, when the Mainwaringgirls went away, she had a little nest-egg laid by to stock a shop. She found a suitable little house at Teckford, laid in her littlestore of provisions with care, for she argued wisely that however poorpeople were they required food, and was living very comfortably on theproceeds of her sales. Hannah, as a rule, had a smooth and unruffledbrow; she was a careful woman, but not a troubled one. At the presentmoment, however it could scarcely be said of this good soul that shewas without cares. The neighbors who came in to buy their bacon, andfresh eggs, and candles, and tea, remarked that Hannah had no longer acheery word and a pleasant smile to give them, and the children, whenthey tumbled out their halfpennies and asked for "a little piece oftaffy, please, ma'am, " noticed that Hannah's eyes had red rims roundthem, and they wondered if she was naughty, and that was why shecried. 

Yes, poor Hannah had a troubled heart during those early summer days, for Daisy lay so weak and languid, and indifferent to all externalthings, on her tiny little bed, never giving Hannah any information asto why she had wandered alone to Rosebury, never saying anything aboutthe weight of sorrow which rested on her little heart, only now andthen moaning out that she must get up and go to Mrs. Ellsworthy, andnow and then feebly saying that she wished so very much that thePrince was there. 

Hannah knew all about Mrs. Ellsworthy, and how she had taken the girlsup, and tried to help them, after their mother's death; but who wasthe Prince?

Finding that the child continued slightly feverish, and mostunnaturally weak--finding that the dainties she prepared were onlyjust tasted by the little sufferer--Hannah looked well into her littlestore of hardly-earned money, and finding that she had sufficient topay him, called in the village doctor. 

Of course, with his limited experience, this good man could littleunderstand Daisy's case. He ordered medicine for her, and plenty ofcooling drinks, and said that he could not find anything very much thematter, only she was most unnaturally weak. 

"It's my thinking, sir, " said Hannah, "that this is the kind ofweakness that ends in death. My little lady is all on the pine forsomething or some one, and unless she gets what she wants soon shewill die. "

Hannah's view of the case was rather puzzling to the doctor, whostared at her, and considered her from that day forward a veryfanciful woman. He repeated his injunctions to give Daisy plenty ofmilk, and to see that she took her tonic three times a day; and thenhe took his leave. 

When he was gone Hannah went to her next-door neighbor and asked herif she would be so very kind as to go and sit in the child's room fora couple of hours. Then she put on her bonnet and neat black cloak, and started off on foot to Rosebury. She had made up her mind to getMrs. Ellsworthy's address from some one, and to write to her aboutDaisy. In due time she arrived at the lodge, saw the woman who keptthe gates, obtained from her without much difficulty Mrs. Ellsworthy'saddress, and then prepared to return home. Just as she reached thestile, however, which led into the field where she had found Daisy, athought struck her--she had no writing-paper in the house, and whatcould be bought at Teckford was almost too bad to use. Hannah made upher mind to go to Rosebury, which was a much more important villagethan Teckford, and get a few sheets of note-paper, and an envelope ortwo. She walked very fast, for she did not like to leave Daisy so longby herself, and, panting and hurried, she at last arrived at thelittle stationer's shop. The stationer's wife knew Hannah, and greetedher with effusion. 

"I'm truly pleased to see you, Mrs. Martin, " she said. "Why you'requite a stranger in these parts, and I did not expect to see you roundnow, with one of your young ladies returned and all. "

Hannah heaved a profound sigh. 

"She's very, very ill, poor darling, " she said. "Very dangerously weakand ill; and I must trouble you to hasten with the paper, Mrs. Jones. One penn'orth of your most shining note, and two envelopes to match. Mind you, give me a paper with a good gloss on it, Mrs. Jones. "

Mrs. Jones stared at Hannah Martin; but fetching down a box ofnote-paper, prepared to wrap some sheets in tissue paper. 

"I shouldn't say Miss Primrose was ill, " she remarked as she did so, "though she do seem worried, dear young lady. "

When the shop-woman made this observation Hannah's pence tumbled downon the counter with a crash. 

"Goodness gracious me, ma'am!" she exclaimed, "you don't mean to tellme that Miss Primrose Mainwaring is at Rosebury?"

"Why, of course, ma'am; why, don't you know? why you said but now howweak and ill she was. "

"Never mind the paper, " answered Hannah, "and never mind a word I saidabout anybody; just have the goodness to tell me where I'll find MissPrimrose. "

"She was staying with Miss Martineau but yesterday and there's agentleman come down, too--a very 'ansome, harristocratic-looking youngman, I call him, and for all the world as like our pretty Miss Jasmineas if he was own brother to her--and they two and Miss Martineau arefairly scouring the place for that poor little tot Miss Daisy, who itseems 'as run away from home. Why, Hannah--Hannah Martin, woman! areyou daft?"

For Hannah had rushed from the shop while Mrs. Jones was speaking, leaving her neglected paper and two or three pence behind her on thecounter. A few moments later the good soul was knocking at MissMartineau's door, and very soon Primrose and Arthur Noel too were inpossession of all the facts that Hannah could give them. 

"Oh, Hannah! it is so good to think you were the one to save her andfind her, " said Primrose, as she kissed her old nurse, and shed somethankful tears. 

"You had better come back with me now, Miss Primrose, " said Hannah, "and perhaps the gentleman or Miss Martineau will send a telegraphicmessage to poor Miss Jasmine. "

But Primrose's difficulties had not come to an end. She instantlystarted to walk across the fields with Hannah; but when Daisy heardshe had come she absolutely refused to see her, and cried sopiteously, and got into such an excited state, that Primrose feltherself obliged to yield to the child's caprice, and to keep out ofthe room. 

"I can't see her, Hannah, " poor little Daisy said. "Of all people inall the world, I can't see my own Primrose. Oh, if only I were wellenough to go to Mrs. Ellsworthy, or if only the Prince would come!"

Primrose heard Daisy's weak little voice through the thin walls ofHannah's cottage. 

"Hannah, " she said, "I know who Daisy means by the Prince. The Princeis that kind Mr. Noel, who has been helping me to find the littledarling. If he has not gone back to London, for he said he would goback at once after he knew we had found Daisy, he could come to her. Oh, Hannah, " continued poor Primrose, "I cannot think what hashappened to your dear baby, Daisy. I begin to believe what Mr. Noelhas been hinting to me--that some one has got a secret influence overher. "

"We had better see and find this Mr. Noel at once, miss, now, " saidpractical Hannah. "We can think of secret influences and all that sortof thing when we have found the gentleman whom the dear child ispining to see. If Mr. Noel is still at Rosebury you had better put onyour hat, Miss Primrose, and walk across the fields to the village, and bring him back with you. I'll stay with Miss Daisy and soothe herthe best way I can. She's dreadful agitated and very weak andtrembling ever since you came in, miss. "

Primrose said she would go back to Rosebury directly, and she was sofortunate as to meet Noel as he was starting for London. 

"You must come with me, " she said earnestly. "I fear our dear littleDaisy is even worse than Hannah represented her to be. She hasabsolutely refused to see me, and talks only about you and Mrs. Ellsworthy. I don't know what she can want with either of you, but itis quite evident that she thinks you can help her and save her fromsome great trouble. Poppy said she wanted Mrs. Ellsworthy to give hermoney; I suppose to replace what she lost of mine. Well, Mrs. Ellsworthy is not here; so can you come to see her to-night?"

"I will come at once, Miss Mainwaring, " answered Noel. "If we walkdown this street we shall pass the post-office, and I can send atelegram to Mrs. Ellsworthy and also to my servant, Lawson. I must tryand get into town some time to-morrow, however, for I have got toattend the trial of no less a person than your old landlord, Dove. Hewas apprehended for stealing a bank-note and a ring from mymantle-piece. "

"I never liked that man, " said Primrose; "indeed, I never thoughteither of the Doves quite honest. Mrs. Dove made a rule of keepingback a little of the money she borrowed from me on all occasions. "

Then Primrose and Noel walked as quickly as they could down thevillage street. Noel despatched his necessary telegram, and in a shorttime they both found themselves in Hannah's humble cottage. 

"She is asleep, " said Hannah, as she came out to meet them. "She ismoaning in her sleep, and she gives sighs enough to break your heart. You had better, both of you, stay in my little sitting-room until sheawakes. "

"If you will allow me, " said Noel, "I will go and sit beside her bed;she is accustomed to me. I will promise to be very careful in mydealings with her. I believe I can talk to her without startling herin the least. "

Hannah looked dubious, but Primrose interposed in her gentle voice--

"Yes, Hannah, Mr. Noel will not startle Daisy; he has always had amost happy influence over her. "

Poor little Daisy! the sight of her wan face, the anxious expressionwhich seemed indelibly stamped on her childish brow, gave Noel sostrong a sense of pain and indignation that he sincerely longed tosecure for Dove as severe a punishment as the law would give. He satdown gently by the humble little bed, and when the child moaned andtossed in her sleep he laid his cool hand on her forehead. That handhad a magnetic effect--even in her sleep Daisy seemed to know it. Shemurmured, "The Prince, has he come?" and a moment after she opened herdark blue eyes and fixed them on Noel, while a very faint smileflitted across her little face. 

"You have come at last, Mr. Prince. I am very, very glad; I havewanted you, " she said. 

"I have wanted you, Daisy; I have been looking for you everywhere. Ihave been in great trouble about you, " answered Noel, in his gentlesttones. 

"Have you?" said little Daisy; "I am sorry you have been in trouble. Do you know that Primrose came to-day and I could not see her? I cansee you, but not Primrose. Please let me hold your hand. I don't feelso dreadfully weak when I hold your hand. Will you stoop down, and letme talk to you. I can't talk at all loud, for I'm dreadfully weak. Doyou know, Mr. Prince, that I'm going to die?"

"No, Daisy, I don't think you are, " answered Noel. I am the Prince whodelivers little girls from ogres. I never heard of a little girl dyingafter she was delivered from the ogre. "

"Wicked little girls are not delivered, " answered Daisy. "I was sodreadfully cowardly. I was afraid of a dark dungeon, and so--andso--but I mustn't tell you. I did lose Primrose's money, and I was acoward, but I haven't been so bad yet as to tell a lie. You mustn'task me to tell you what it all means, Mr. Prince, for I can't. I hopevery much you'll forgive me for being a cowardly little girl; God has, long ago, for I asked Him, and I am not really afraid to die. Ishouldn't feel a bit afraid or unhappy about it if I thought Primroseand Jasmine could have their money. "

Here Daisy's voice quite failed her, and she looked so dreadfullywhite and weak that Noel began to fear there was some truth in herpoor little words. He saw that their interview must not be prolonged, and that he must give the child relief as soon as possible. 

"Daisy, you have got to listen to me, " he said. "You need say verylittle yourself, but you can listen to my words. I know why you wantto see Mrs. Ellsworthy--yes, dear, you can hold my hand as tightly aspossible. No, don't tremble; you want Mrs. Ellsworthy to give you somemoney. She is not here; I know she would help you, and feel sorry foryou, but there are others who do that. Daisy, suppose I give you backyour money instead of Mrs. Ellsworthy? Give me your little hand, dear, and let me put the money into it. Here; it makes quite a smallparcel--a ten-pound note, a five-pound note, two sovereigns and ahalf. Now, Daisy, shall we keep this as a little secret betweenourselves? Primrose will ask no questions if you beg of her not, andwhen you have put that money into her hand will you not be able tohave her with you again?"

Daisy's little hot hand closed tightly over the money. She did notspeak, or even attempt to thank Noel, but her eyes, wider and wideropen each moment, were fixed intently on his face. 

"That is settled, then, Daisy, " continued Noel, "and we need not thinkof Mrs. Ellsworthy just at present, for you do not now need herservices. Of course a Prince is the right person to deliver a littlegirl from a dreadful ogre. I don't see that Mrs. Ellsworthy shouldhave anything to do with it. Now, my dear, I'm going to say one or twoother things to you--you need not feel the least frightened. "

"May I really keep the money?" whispered Daisy at last. 

"Of course, I said so. We will not say any more on this subject atpresent. I have given you the money to-night, because I want you tohave Primrose sitting by your side and nursing you and comforting you. When Primrose is with you again you will cease to think those gloomythoughts about dying. Now I have something else to add before I leaveyou. "

Noel had now taken a very firm hold of Daisy's little hand. She hadbeen trembling a good deal, but she had certainly grown calmer. Perhaps the knowledge that she really did possess some money to giveto Primrose was comforting her. Noel felt a sense of distress atdisturbing even for her eventual good the child's present calm. Itmust be done, however, and he thought a moment how he could mostgently deal with her. 

"I'm going to tell you a story, Daisy, " he said--"a very sad story, and, alas, a true one. There lives a little girl, I will not tell hername, although I know it, who has been unfortunate enough to get intothe power of a very bad man. The man is very, very bad, but I willnot mention his name here, although I know it also. The man came tothe little girl and talked to her, and no doubt he threatened her, andat last he made her promise him something--what, I cannot say. Fromthe moment this little girl made this promise she became thin andwhite, and anxious and unhappy. She struggled against the terriblepromise which seemed to bind her with fetters of iron, but she couldnever get away from it, and the man appeared like a terrible ogre toher, and she longed for a Prince to come and deliver her from him. Thewicked man having terrified this poor little girl, did his best to usehis influence over her to his own ends. At one time she lived in thehouse with him, but although she struggled against it her friendsinduced her to go elsewhere. Even in the new palace, however, she wasnot safe from the terrible ogre; he followed her, and, it is to befeared, although nothing is absolutely known, that he used cruelthreats to induce her to give him some money which was not hers togive. The poor little weak girl was afraid to consult any one onaccount of her promise. It was quite natural she should think it rightto keep her promise, although it was very sad. She was so completelyunder the power of the wicked man, or the ogre, as we will call him, that she gave him her sister's money--the money that was to supportthem all for some months, and then in her great despair she ranaway. " Here Noel paused--Daisy's eyes were fixed on him. Her face waswhite as death. 

"You see, dear, it is a painful story, " he said, "but it is not quitefinished yet. The poor little girl ran away, but she never knew whatwas happening to the ogre. That wicked man was not allowed to continuehis evil ways without punishment. At the present moment he is lockedup safely in prison, where he can hurt no one. He was put therebecause he stole a five-pound note and a ring from the gentleman whomthe little girl used to call the Prince. It is believed, though ofcourse nothing is certainly known, nor will be until the little girlis taken out of the thraldom of the ogre and confesses what hashappened, that this wicked man has also stolen a good deal of moneyfrom an envelope which the elder sister used to consider her'Emergency Fund' envelope. In short, it is thought that his one objectin frightening the poor little girl was simply to rob her and hersisters. Now that he is in prison, however, and quite out of the wayof harming any one, it is greatly hoped by those who love her that thepoor little one, who was made to suffer so cruelly, will be releasedfrom the thraldom of the wicked ogre, and be made to see that thereare times and circumstances during which even the most truthful littlegirl would do better to break her word than to keep it. Now, Daisy, that is the end of my story; I've got nothing more to say about it, for at present I know nothing more. Good-night, dear--I will sendPrimrose to you. I will come to you when you want me again. "

CHAPTER XLVI. 

DELIVERED FROM THE OGRE. 

"Here's the money, Primrose--here's all the money, " said little Daisy, in a weak, weak voice, when her sister came up to her bedside, andbent over her. "It was lost and the Prince brought it back; you won'task me any questions about it, will you, Primrose?"

"No, " exclaimed Primrose, in her very quiet and matter-of-factvoice--the kind of voice which was most soothing to the excitable andnervous child at the present moment. 

"I'm glad to have it back, Daisy, dear, for I have missed it; but ofcourse, I shan't ask you any questions about it. I shall just put itinto my purse, and you shall see what a nice fat purse I have got oncemore. "

Then Primrose held her little sister's hand, and shook up her pillows, and tended her as only she knew how, but all that night Daisy grewmore and more restless. The drowsy state in which she had hithertobeen had changed to one of wakefulness. All through the long nightthe little creature's bright eyes remained open, and her anxious facehad a question on it which yet she never spoke. At last, as the brightsummer's morning broke, she turned to Primrose and said eagerly--

"Kneel down, Primrose, and ask God what a very ignorant, very unhappylittle girl ought to do. Oh, Primrose, it's all about a promise--apromise that was most faithfully given. What shall I do about it?"

"Do you want to keep it, or to break it?" asked Primrose. 

"It seems to me I ought to keep it, Primrose, because a promise, faithfully given, ought always to be kept; but Mr. Noel says I oughtto break this promise; oh, I don't know what to do!"

"Your heart won't be at rest, Daisy, and you won't really get better, until you do know what to do, " answered Primrose. "Of course, I willkneel down and ask God to tell you. "

Then the elder sister prayed aloud a very few earnest words, and thelittle one joined her in whispered sentences. The prayer was not long, but in Daisy's case it was quickly answered. When the morning quitebroke, and the real working-day had begun, Primrose sent a message toNoel to come at once to see the child. Daisy received him with atouching little smile. 

"Was the little girl me?" she asked. "And was the wicked, wicked ogre, Mr. Dove?"

"It is clever of you to guess that much, Daisy, " answered Noel. 

"Am I the little girl?" continued Daisy, "who made a promise which sheought now to break? Will God forgive me for breaking a promise which Imade so very, very faithfully? Mr. Noel, I will tell you something. That promise has nearly killed me. The old Daisy went away when thatpromise was made, and such a poor, cowardly, wretched Daisy came inher place. She'd have been selfish, too, but for you; but you taughther a little bit about the Palace Beautiful, and she was trying to begood in spite of the dreadful promise. Then the ogre came again, andthe second time he was so dreadful that she even became very selfishto get rid of him. Oh, Mr. Noel, is it right for me--will God think itreally right for me--to break that dreadful promise?"

"He will, Daisy. The promise ought never to have been made. Only aninnocent and ignorant little child would have made it; yes, Daisy, dear, yours is one of the rare cases of a promise better broken thankept. See, I am the Prince, and I'm going to take the spell of theogre from you. The wicked ogre is locked up in a dungeon instead ofyou, and the Prince commands the poor little captive to tell himeverything. "

Then Daisy, with some broken sobs, and with a piteous light in herblue eyes, told Noel the whole cruel story. He listened without onceinterrupting the little narrator. When she had finished, he kissedher, and told her that she now had nothing to fear, and then, biddingher sleep away all her troubles, he left her to Primrose's care. Bythe next train he himself went to London in full time to attend Dove'strial. 

That worthy was at first inclined to brazen matters out, but whenNoel, primed with Daisy's confession, appeared on the scene, his faceunderwent a remarkable change. Its rubicund tints quite deserted it, an alarming pallor spreading over every feature. Tommy Dove, who mighthave been seen in a foremost position amongst the crowd of spectators, was heard audibly to exclaim--

"Law, I guess there ain't no leg for my respected pa to stand on now!"

This, although not expressed aloud, seemed also to be Dove's opinion, for he then and there made a full confession of his wicked practices, and of the cruel threats he had employed to terrify Daisy. He receivedhis sentence, which was a severe one, with much stoicism, and, as hewas led away from his place in the prisoner's dock, addressed aparting word to his affectionate and hysterical spouse--

"Never mind, Mrs. Dove, my only love, even fourteen years comes to anend somehow, and when we meets again we'll make a rule for there beingno attic lodgers. "

"To the very end his was a poetic turn, " his wife afterwards remarkedto her favorite cronies. 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

ALMOST DEFEATED. 

With the weight of her secret removed Daisy began slowly, very slowly, to mend. The strain she had undergone had been too great for herquickly to recover her strength; but little by little a faint colordid return to her white cheeks, she slept more peacefully, and beganto eat again. 

"There's nothing at all for you to do, Miss Primrose, " said Hannah, "but to give up that post of continually screaming out book andnewspaper stuff to a deaf old lady. "

"She isn't deaf, Hannah, " interrupted Primrose. "She wants me to readto her because her sight is very bad. "

"Well, well, " replied Hannah Martin, in a testy tone, "whether she'sdeaf or whether she's blind, it ain't no way a fit post for you, MissPrimrose. You've got to stay here now, and take care of that preciouslittle lamb, and you had better send for Miss Jasmine to keep youcompany. "

"I am certainly not going to leave Daisy at present, " repliedPrimrose. "I've got money enough to go on with, but I must go back totown as soon as possible in order to earn enough to return Mr. Noel'smoney to him. As to Jasmine, do you know, Hannah, she has got quite anice way of making a little income? You remember how cleverly shealways arranged the flowers in our drawing-room at dear Rosebury, andhow our mother always asked her to make bouquets for her? It now seemsthat Jasmine has got rather remarkable taste, and some fine ladies inLondon are employing her to arrange flowers on their dinner-tables. They pay her very well indeed for this, and the labor is nothing atall. "

"Hoot!" said Hannah; "I think it's rather demeaning of herself. Well, Miss Primrose, I suppose the poor dear will want a holiday the same asthe rest of you. To tell the truth, Miss Primrose, my old eyes ache tosee the darling, she was always such a bonny one. "

Primrose smiled. 

"When the fine ladies go out of town, Hannah, we will have Jasminedown, and you shall squeeze us all into that nice, cosy little bedroomof yours. What a good thing it was, Hannah; that you did not follow usto London, but that you started this nice shop in the country, fornow we three girls can have our change in the country at such smallexpense. "

Tears started to Hannah's eyes. 

"I've been always saving up for this, Miss Primrose, and if you willtalk of paying me at all, I'll never forgive you; aren't you mynurslings, all three of you, and the only creatures I have got to livefor?"

In the meantime while things were mending for Primrose and Daisy, andDaisy was beginning once more to get that soft pink in her cheekswhich gave her such a curious and touching likeness to hername-flower, poor little Jasmine, left behind in her Palace Beautiful, was not having quite so good a time. 

Jasmine was beset by several worries and anxieties; she was alsoextremely lonely, for Miss Egerton, owing to the dangerous illness ofa near relation, was still absent from home, and Poppy, driven by thedire necessity of earning bread to eat, had been obliged to return, aslittle maid-of-all-work, to Penelope Mansion. 

Jasmine was alone, but she was a brave child, and her strong longingnow was to help Primrose, and above all things not to ask for anymoney from her. 

For the first few days after Primrose had gone to the country the poorlittle girl's resources were very meagre indeed. She had thought thatfirst sovereign she had earned simply inexhaustible, but it wassurprising how it melted in her inexperienced grasp, and how very, very little it seemed capable of purchasing. 

In her first delight at finding herself capable of earning money shehad written an extravagantly hopeful letter to Primrose. 

"You need not think at all of me, dear Primrose, " she wrote; "keep allthe money you can collect to buy nice nourishing things for dearlittle Daisy. Perhaps I shall become quite famous as an arranger offlowers on great London dinner-tables. If I do get orders, and I thinkI am sure of them, I shall not only be able to pay my own Londonexpenses, but will save something towards our emergency fund. Oh, Primrose, my heart burns with longings to earn lots of money, and tobe great and strong and famous!"

This poor little enthusiastic letter reached Primrose when Daisy wasat her worst, and it so happened that it lightened her cares about thelittle sister alone in London. She felt quite sure that Jasmine wasgetting plenty of orders, and was earning sufficient money for her ownmodest wants in the pretty way she spoke of; and in consequence shedid not send her any of the money which Daisy had returned to her. 

But poor little Jasmine was not receiving orders so fast as Primroseanticipated. One or two other ladies did ask her to dress theirdinner-tables for them, and one or two more promised to do so, andthen forgot all about it; but no one paid her as well as Mrs. Daintreehad done. Noel was out of town, and was unable to interest himself inher behalf, and so it came to pass that the slender purse could notsupply the modest needs, and Jasmine was much too proud, and toodetermined to help herself, to write to Primrose for money. 

These were hard days for the little girl--days which were to prove thestuff she was made of to the very uttermost--but doubtless they gaveher, as all anxious days of pain bravely borne do, a valuableexperience and a depth of character which she could not otherwise haveacquired. 

The lesson she was to learn, however, was a painful one, and itssharpness was to be felt very quickly. 

Jasmine's hope of hopes lay in her beloved manuscript. That story, thefirst-fruits of her young genius, must surely make her purse bulky, and must wreathe her little brow with laurels. That story, too, was torefund poor Poppy the money she had lent, and was to enable Jasmine tolive in comfort during her sister's absence. 

One day, about ten days after Primrose had gone to Rosebury, Jasminestood by the windows of the Palace Beautiful to watch the postman. Hewas coming up the street, and Jasmine greatly, greatly hoped he wouldstop at Miss Egerton's and drop into the letter-box, perhaps, a letterfrom Primrose, and more delightful still, a roll of proofs of her dearstory. The postman, however, passed on his way, and gave his loudrat-tat at the doors to right and the doors to left, but neithersounded the bell nor gave his double-knock at Miss Egerton's door. Jasmine sighed deeply, and retiring from the window, sat down to herfrugal breakfast. She looked pale, and her eyes were not as bright andstarry as usual. Presently she took out her purse and looked at itscontents. This was Thursday. She had dressed a dinner-table on Monday, and had received seven and sixpence. Her purse now contained threeshillings, and she certainly could not accuse herself of anyextravagance in the matter of diet. 

"This will never do, " she said to herself. "I believe if I do not getany more money I shall be obliged to apply to Primrose, and it wasonly last night I heard from dear old Rose saying how glad she wasthat I was able to support myself. She said Daisy's illness had cost agreat deal, and we must all economize in every possible manner forsome time. Dear darling old Primrose, I will not ask her to help me--Iwill manage for myself. Now how shall I do it? I am afraid thoseladies did not care for the star arrangement of flowers which I madeat that last house. I thought them lovely, peeping out through theirdark green leaves, but I heard Mrs. Lee whispering to Mrs. Mansell, 'How peculiar! _do_ you quite like it?' and then Mrs. Mansell saidnothing more about my dressing her dinner-table. Her dinner-party wasto have been to-day, and she _almost_ promised to have me when Iarrived in the morning. Well, there is no use thinking of that; Icannot swell my purse in that manner this day, that is very evident. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?"

Here a sudden thought came to Jasmine. Under its influence her cheeksflushed, and her eyes began to shine. 

"Why, of course, " she exclaimed; "how very silly of me to forget!--myhundred copies of _The Joy-bell_ ought to have arrived by now. Yes, ofcourse they ought, and perhaps I shall be able to sell some of them. Ihave no doubt Mrs. Dredge would buy a couple if Poppy asked her andperhaps Mrs. Mortlock and Miss Slowcum would also like to see my firststory in print. Yes, of course, I can sell a few copies. Bridget saidshe would buy one, and she said she had two cronies who would be sureto take a copy each. Yes, I expect I shall make a few shillings by thesale of _The Joy-bell_ to-day, and that will keep me going fine. Oh, dear! the very moment I have earned a little money by them I mustsend a copy down to Daisy. Won't the darling like to show my words ofgenius to Primrose? I'll run downstairs this minute, and ask Bridgetif she has not got a parcel for me. "

But alas! no _Joy-bells_ had arrived for Jasmine, and after the littlegirl had wondered a great deal, and talked the matter over withBridget she determined to put on her hat and go off to consult withPoppy. 

She was not long finding her way to Penelope Mansion, and Poppy openedthe door for her, but greeted her in a sad voice, and looked decidedlydepressed. 

"I have come about _The Joy-bell_" began Jasmine at once, in anexcited voice. "It ought to have come--my hundred copies, you know, and they haven't. I must go to inquire about it at once; and, Poppy, dear, could you come with me?"

Poppy turned very red. 

"No, Miss Jasmine, darling, I couldn't, " she said, in the meekestvoice. 

Poppy's tones were so unlike those she usually employed that Jasmineglanced at her in some surprise. 

"Why, Poppy, how funny you are!" she exclaimed. "Is anything thematter?"

"Don't you notice it, Miss Jasmine, but I'm a bit low-like, " saidPoppy. "I has my low fits and my high fits same as t'other folks, andthis is a low fit day--that's all, miss. "

"Oh! I am so sorry. Poor Poppy! And is the swimming in your head asbad as ever?"

"It's continual, Miss Jasmine. It seems to have become a kind ofhabit, same as the smuts and the Sarah Janes. A swimming head is mostcertain the London style of head for a girl like me. Yes, I am sorry Ican't go with you, Miss Jasmine, darling, but I can't this morning. Ihope you will get safe to the City, miss, and that you will see theeditor, and give it to him sharp for not sending you your _Joy-bells_. Oh, my, Miss Jasmine! to think that your beautiful words is in printat last! Most likely the whole of London is flooded by them now, andthe editor will be asking you for more of your words of beauty andwisdom. You make a sharp bargain with him, Miss Jasmine, and beforeyou put pen to paper again for him, you get your money down. There'snothing so safe in clinching a bargain as money down. Oh, dear! I wishI could go with you. And, Miss Jasmine, if you could find itconvenient to pay me back say one and sixpence of the little loan, I'll be for ever obliged, darling. "

At this moment Mrs. Flint's voice was heard calling Poppy, anddemanding who she was standing gossiping with. Mrs. Flint's voicesounded quite sharp, and Jasmine guessed that something unusual musthave occurred to disturb her, for Mrs. Flint was known on principlenever to excite herself. 

"What is the matter with her?" she inquired of Poppy, who flushed upat her tones. 

"Oh, nothing, miss. She's only a bit put out about the broken boots. There, I must run. "

Poppy almost shut the door in Jasmine's face. She was certainly veryunlike her usual self. 

Jasmine walked down the steps of the Mansion, and slowly, very slowly, went up the street to meet the omnibus which was to convey herCitywards. 

She was quite a clever little Londoner now, and knew which were theright omnibuses to take, and, in short, how to find her way abouttown. She hailed the City omnibus, and hastily and humbly took herplace amongst its crowded passengers. She was the unlucky twelfth, andher advent was certainly not hailed with delight. The bright morninghad turned to rain, and the passengers, most of them women, werewrapped up in waterproof cloaks. Jasmine, when she entered theomnibus, looked so small, so timid, and unimportant, that no onethought it worth while even to move for her, and at last she wasthankful to get a little pin-point of room between two very buxomladies, who both almost in the same breath desired her not to crowdthem, and both also fiercely requested her to keep her wet dress fromtouching their waterproofs. 

At another time Jasmine would have been quite spirited enough toresent the unfriendly behavior of the inmates of the City 'bus; buther interview with Poppy had depressed her greatly, and she had a kindof terrified little fear that she knew the reason of Mrs. Flint'ssharp tones, that she could guess why Poppy's bright face should lookso dismal, and why she was obliged so earnestly to beg of her toreturn her one and sixpence. 

"She wants her own money--her wages, that she earned with a swimminghead and all, " thought poor Jasmine. "How selfish of me not toremember before that of course, poor Poppy would want her wages; it isperfectly dreadful to think of her doing without them. Why, of course, Mrs. Flint would be likely to scold her if she went about with herragged boots when she earns such good wages. Poor, dear, brave Poppy!she would never tell what she did with her money. Well, she must haveit all back to-day. Yes, I am determined about that, she shall have itback, to-day. "

Jasmine was thinking so hard, and so absorbing was her theme, that sheleaned unconsciously against the fat neighbor on her right. This goodperson immediately pushed her with some vigor into the arms of theportly neighbor on her left, who exclaimed, in a cross voice--

"Lor' sakes! my dear, sit upright, do. "

"I hope the young person will soon get out, " exclaimed the otherneighbor. "I call it downright unconscionable to crowd up Christianwomen like this. Might I make bold to inquire, miss, when you arethinking of alighting?"

"I am going to Paternoster Row, " said Jasmine, in a meek voice. "I donot think I am very far from there now. "

"Oh, no, miss! we have only to go down Newgate Street, and there youare. It's a queer place, is Paternoster Row, not that I knows muchabout it. "

"A mighty bookish place, " took up the other neighbor "they say theyare all bookworms that live there, and that they are as dry as bits ofparchment. I shouldn't say that a bright little miss like you had anycall to go near such a place. "

Jasmine drew herself up, and her face became sunshiny once more. 

"You would not think, " she began, with an air of modest pride, "that Ibelong to the booky and the parchmenty people, but I do. I am goingdown the Row to inquire about one of my publications, perhaps I oughtto say my first, so I am anxious about it. "

"Lor', who would have thought it!" exclaimed both the ladies, but theyinstantly fell back and seemed to think it better to leave soalarmedly learned a little girl alone. For the remainder of the ridethey talked across Jasmine about the price of onions, and where thecheapest bacon was to be purchased, and they both breathed a sigh ofrelief when she stepped out into the rain and they could once moreexpand themselves in the space which she had occupied. 

Meanwhile the forlorn little adventurer walked down the narrow path ofthis celebrated Row. It was still raining heavily, and Jasmine'sumbrella had several rents in its canopy. Now that she was so close toher destination she began to feel strangely nervous, and many fearshitherto unknown beset her. Suppose, after all, _The Joy-bell_ whichcontained the first portion of her story had not had a large success;suppose, after all, the public were not so delighted with her flowingwords. Perhaps the editor would receive her very coldly, and wouldtell her what a loss her story had been, and how indisposed he felt togo on with it. If this was the case she never, never would havecourage to ask him to give her Poppy's wages. If the editor scoldedher she felt that she would be incapable of saying a word in her owndefence. Nay, she thought it extremely probable that then and thereshe would burst into tears. Undoubtedly, she was in a very low frameof mind to-day. She, as well as Poppy, had her low fit on, and shegreatly trembled for the result of the coming interview. Since thatpathetic little last speech of Poppy's about her broken boots Jasminehad quite forgotten how sorely she needed money for herself. Her oneand only desire just now was to restore Poppy's money. 

"I must do it, " she said to herself; "I must do it, and I will. I havemade up my mind, and I really need not be so frightened. After all, Poppy and Daisy are both quite sure that I am a genius. Daisy saysthat I have got the face of a genius, and Poppy was in such great, great delight at my story. It is not likely that they would both bewrong, and Poppy is a person of great discernment. I must cheer up andbelieve what they told me. I daresay Poppy is right, and London ishalf-flooded with my story. Ah, here I am at the entrance of the courtwhere the editor of _The Joy-bell_ lives. How funny it is to be hereall alone. I really feel quite like a heroine. Now I am at theoffice--how queer, how very queer--I do not see any _Joy-bells_pressed up against the window. No, not a single one; there are lots ofother books and papers, but no _Joy-bells_. Dear, dear! my heart doesbeat, for I am thinking that perhaps Poppy is right, and that all thecopies of _The Joy-bells_ are bought up; that, of course, is onaccount of my story. " Then Jasmine entered the house, and went into alittle office where a red-haired boy was sitting on a high stoolbefore a dirty-looking desk. The boy had a facetious and ratherunpleasant face, and was certainly not remarkable for good manners. 

"I want to see the editor of _The Joy-bell_, " asked Jasmine, in asfirm a tone as she could command. 

The red-haired boy raised his eyes from a huge ledger which he waspretending to occupy himself over, and said, "Can't see him, " in alaconic tone, and dropped his eyes again. 

"But why?" asked Jasmine, somewhat indignantly. "I have particularbusiness with him; it is most necessary that I should see him. Pray, let him know that I am here. "

"Very sorry, " replied the boy, "but can't. "

"Why not?"

"'Cause he ain't in town. "

"Oh!"

Poor Jasmine fell back a pace or two; then she resumed in a differenttone--

"I am very much disappointed; there is a story of mine in _TheJoy-bell_, and I wanted to speak to him about it. It was veryimportant, indeed, " she added, in so sad a voice that the red-hairedboy gazed at her in some astonishment. 

"My word, " he said, "then you do not know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Why, we has had a funeral here. "

"A funeral--oh, dear! oh, dear! is the editor of _The Joy-bell_ dead?"

Here the red-haired boy burst into a peal of irrepressible laughter. 

"Dead! he ain't dead, but _The Joy-bell_ is; we had her funeral lastweek. "

Poor Jasmine staggered against the wall, and her pretty face becameghastly white. 

"Oh, boy, " she said, "do tell me about it; how can _The Joy-bell_ bedead, and have a funeral? Oh, please, don't jest with me, for it's soimportant. "

The genuine distress in her tones touched at last some vulnerablepoint in the facetious office-boy's breast. 

"I'm real sorry for you, miss, " he said, "particular as you seems socut up; but what I tell you is true, and you had better know it. Thateditor has gone, and _The Joy-bell_ is decently interred. I was at herbirth, and I was at her funeral. She had a short life, and was neverup to much. I never guessed she'd hold out as long as she did; but theeditor was a cute one, and for a time he bamboozled his authors, andmanaged to live on them. Yes, _The Joy-bell_ is in her quiet grave atlast, and can't do no more harm to nobody. Lor', miss, I wouldn'ttake on if I was you, you'd soon get accustomed to it if you had adesk at an office like this. In at the births, and in at the deaths amI, and I don't make no count of one or t'other. Why, now, there was_The Stranger_--which went in for pictorial get up, and was trulyelegant--it only lasted six months; and there was _The Ocean Wave_, which did not even live as long. And there was _Merrie Lassie_--oh, their names is legion. We'll have another started in no time. So youmust be going, miss? Well, good morning. If I was you, miss, Iwouldn't send no more stories to this yere office. "

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

ONE SHOE OFF AND ONE SHOE ON. 

"I must see you, Poppy--I must see you, and I can't come into thehouse. I could not face Mrs. Mortlock, nor Mrs. Dredge, nor MissSlowcum. I am a dreadful failure, Poppy, a dreadful, dreadful failure, and I cannot look any one in the face. Do come out with me, dearPoppy, and at once; for if I can't speak to you at the present momentmy heart will break. "

"They're teaing just now, " said Poppy, in a reflective tone; "they areall in the dining-room as snug as possible over their high tea. Theyhave shrimps for tea, and a wonderful new kind of paste that AuntFlint brought in to-day. It's called Gentlemen's Relish, and eats wellon hot toast, and I made a lot. Oh, my! won't the ladies go in for it!Though Miss Slowcum always is so bitter against gentlemen, she willeat their relish, and no mistake. Well, Miss Jasmine they are allengaged over the pleasures of the social board, and what's to hinderyou and me going down to the back scullery and having our talk there?You see, miss, if I went out with you I'd have to tidy up a bit first, and that would take time. "

"You are quite sure they won't hear me, Poppy, if I walk across thehall. Miss Slowcum is dreadfully curious, and if she heard my step inthe hall she would run out even though she was eating Gentlemen'sRelish. I do not want any one to see me now that I am a failure. "

"Step on this mat, " said Poppy--"now on this; now make a spring here. There you are. Now we'll be down in my scullery long before MissSlowcum can get to the dining-room door. Now, miss, let me put a seatfor you. The scullery ain't so damp to-day, is it, Miss Jasmine?"

"I don't know, " said Jasmine, who looked very tired, and almost ill. "Poppy, dear, I have not brought the one and sixpence. "

"Oh, it don't matter, " said Poppy. "One and sixpence never fretted meyet, and it ain't going to begin. You'll pay me when you can, MissJasmine, and there ain't no hurry. "

But Jasmine noticed that Poppy moved her little feet out of sight, andin spite of her brave words Jasmine observed a look of dismay creepinginto her bright eyes. 

This slight action on Poppy's part--this little lurking gleam ofdisappointment--were as the proverbial last straw to poor Jasmine. Herfortitude gave way, and she burst into the bitterest tears she hadever shed. 

Poppy was much alarmed, and stood over her dear little lady, andbrought her cold water, and tried to comfort her by every means in herpower. 

When Jasmine had a little recovered herself she told the whole bitterstory of her morning's adventure to Poppy. That young person'sindignation knew no bounds. 

"The editor must be put in prison, " she said; "he must be caught andput in prison. Mrs. Jones the charwoman has a second cousin onceremoved, whose first cousin is married to a policeman, and Mrs. Jonesis coming here to-morrow, and I'll get her to see her second cousin, and the second cousin shall see her first cousin who is married to apoliceman, and he will tell us what is to be done. That's going to thefountainhead, ain't it, Miss Jasmine? Never you fear, miss, darling, that editor shall be locked up in prison, and be made to give backyour money. Never you fear, dear Miss Jasmine, it will all come rightwhen Mrs. Jones sees her second cousin who has a first cousin who ismarried to a policeman!"

Poppy became quite cheerful when she remembered Mrs. Jones'sremarkable means of getting at a policeman, but Jasmine could not becomforted; she shook her head almost petulantly. 

"It's all most puzzling for me, " she said, "about Mrs. Jones and herpolicemen; it sounds exactly like the House that Jack Built, and Ishall have a swimming head myself if I listen to you. No, Poppy, thatpoliceman will never lock the wicked editor up in prison; he is agreat deal too clever to allow himself to be locked up. Oh, dear!Poppy, what shall I do? All your money is gone, and my story is gone, and I know you are wanting boots as badly as possible. You are a dear, brave Poppy, but I know you have not a boot to your foot. "

"Yes, Miss Jasmine, I has, I has one boot and one shoe; the shoe is anout-door one, and heavy, and the boot is a light one. Worn together, they make one walk a little one-sided, and the ladies, in particularMiss Slowcum, don't like it, but, lor', that don't matter nothing tospeak of; they can't do nothing to me except tack on a few more namesto Sarah. It don't fret me, Miss Jasmine, and it needn't fret you. "

"All the same, I am going to get you your money, Poppy. I haveabsolutely made up my mind. I don't know how to do it, but do it Iwill. I had to come here to-night to tell you what had reallyhappened; but now I am going home. You won't have to wear thatdreadful boot and shoe together much longer. "

After this Jasmine managed to walk through the hall without beingdetected by Miss Slowcum; and very tired and weary, in process of timeshe found her way back to the Palace Beautiful. She drank a glass ofmilk which Bridget had laid ready for her, and ate two or three slicesof bread and butter. Then she went into the little bedroom, with itsthree pretty white beds, and opening her own special trunk began toexamine its contents. She was dreadfully frightened at what she wasabout to do, but all the same she was determined to do it. She wouldpawn or sell what little valuables she possessed to give Poppy backher wages. 

When the girls left Rosebury, Primrose made a very careful division ofher mother's possessions. To Jasmine's share had come some reallybeautiful Spanish lace. Jasmine had not particularly admired it, butPrimrose fancied that it would some day suit her speaking andvivacious face better than it would herself or Daisy. Jasmine hadjammed the lace into a corner of her trunk, and but for the memory ofdear mamma which it called up, would have made it a present toanybody. But one day it so happened that Miss Egerton caught sight ofit; she exclaimed at its beauty, and said that it was really worth aconsiderable sum of money. 

The lace consisted of a handsome shawl of black Spanish, and what wasmore beautiful, and also rarer, two very lovely flounces of white. 

Miss Egerton was quite right when she spoke of the lace as valuable, but her ideas of value and Jasmine's were widely different. Jasminewould have thought herself well repaid if any one had given herPoppy's wages for the old lace; she would indeed have opened her eyeshad she known at what sum Miss Egerton valued it. In addition to thelace Jasmine had a little thin gold ring which Mrs. Mainwaring hadworn as a guard to her wedding-ring. Jasmine much preferred the ringto the lace, but she slipped it on her finger, intending to part withit also, if the lace did not fetch enough money. She knew thatPrimrose would be deeply hurt at the lace being sold, for she had overand over said that come what might, they would not part with their fewlittle home mementoes; but Jasmine was past caring even for whatPrimrose said to-night. With her lace wrapped up in an untidy parcelshe slipped downstairs. Bridget came into the hall to speak to her. 

"Look here, missie, is it not a little late for you to be going out?"

"Oh, not at all, Biddy, dear. I am going a little way. I won't belong. "

Then Jasmine went up to the old servant and spoke in her most coaxingand fascinating tones. 

"Biddy, what did you say was the sign of a pawnshop?"

"A pawnshop, Miss Jasmine? Why, bless us and save us, miss, what haveyou got to say to such places?"

"Oh, nothing in particular, Bridget, only I thought I would like toknow. I am always trying to get information on every kind of subject. Is the pawnshop the sign of the three balls, Biddy?"

"Yes, yes, miss--what a curious young lady! There, run out and takeyour walk quick, and come back as soon as possible, for though it'sclose on Midsummer Day we'll have the night on us before you return ifyou are not quick. "

Jasmine left the house, nodding brightly to Bridget as she did so, andthe old servant returned to her interrupted work. 

"She's a bright bonnie girl, " she said to herself, "and hasn't she gota winsome way? I hope she drank up her milk, for she is looking a bitpale, and I hope she won't stay out late, for it may turn damp whenthe dew begins to fall. "

Bridget was busy over her work, and was thinking of Jasmine after allin only a very lazy and comfortable fashion when a cab drew up to thedoor, and Miss Egerton most unexpectedly returned. She was not in thehouse a moment before she asked for Jasmine. 

"She's just gone out, ma'am, " answered Bridget. "She had a parcel inher hand, and she said she was going out for a run. No, ma'am, I don'tsay she's looking at all particularly well. She's very white andworried looking, and she is scarcely ever in the house. She says shemust improve her mind, and that is why she is out, and she do ask thefunniest questions. Just now it was to know what was the sign of apawnshop. "

"The sign of a pawnshop?" echoed Miss Egerton; "and did you tell her, Bridget?"

"Why, of course, ma'am. She said she wanted to know for the improvingof her mind. She had a little parcel in her hand, and she said shewould be back again in no time. Shall I get you a cup of tea, ma'am?"

"No, thank you, Bridget. I cannot eat until I find out about MissJasmine. I do not like her asking you those questions, Bridget, and Ido not like her taking a little parcel with her. The child may be inwant or trouble. I must see to it at once. Bridget, have you any ideawhich is the nearest pawnshop to this?"

"Oh, ma'am, there's Spiller's round the corner, and there's Davidson'sin the main road. Now, Miss Egerton, I am most certain Miss Jasminewanted to hear about the pawnshop for the sake of improving her mind, and for that reason only. I wish you would stay, ma'am, and have yourcup of tea, for you look real tired. "

But Miss Egerton was gone. 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

SPANISH LACE. 

She walked quickly down the street, hoping every moment to overtakeJasmine. Miss Egerton had old-fashioned ideas about many things, andnothing could exceed her horror at the thought of this pretty andrefined-looking child finding her way alone to a pawnshop. 

"Poor little girl!" she said to herself. "She must be really inabsolute want. What has she taken to pawn? Oh, dear! this anxiety isterrible--and yet, and yet, how glad I am to know those orphan girls. "

Miss Egerton was very tired, had just returned from the death-bed ofher dearest friend, had certainly heaps of worries of her own; butthat did not prevent her whole heart from going out to Jasmine with anaffection which was almost motherly. 

When at last she found the little girl just coming out of Spiller'spawnshop she laid a trembling hand on her arm. 

"Jasmine, oh, my dear child, you have been in there! You have beenpawning something. "

Jasmine was in such a depressed state of mind that even Miss Egerton'sunexpected return failed to astonish her. She said, raising two sadeyes to the good lady's face--

"It was only that old Spanish lace. I always knew it was not worthmuch. The man only laughed when I asked for Poppy's wages for it. Hehas given me ten shillings, and I am going off with it to Poppyto-night. Yes, Miss Egerton, I must, I really must. "

"What have you tried to pawn, Jasmine?" asked Miss Egerton, when shecould find her voice. "Surely not that lovely, valuable Spanish lace. My dear child, come back with me into the shop this moment. "

"But I must keep my ten shillings, " exclaimed Jasmine "Oh! MissEgerton, don't, don't! You don't know what has happened to me!"

Miss Egerton took Jasmine's little hand in hers. 

"My poor child, you shall tell me all. Jasmine, dear, that lace isworth pounds. I shall redeem it at once, for my sake, if not foryours. There, poor little girl, keep your ten shillings, if it makesyou happy. "

The man who had lent Jasmine half a sovereign on the Spanish lace ofcourse knew little or nothing of its true value, and the good lady hadtherefore small difficulty in getting it back. She walked home holdingJasmine's hot little hand, took her into her own pretty drawing-room, feasted her on many good things, which she had brought from thecountry, and finally made her tell her all her sorrowful little story. 

"You always said that my writing was not up to much, " said Jasmine, inconclusion. "I did not like you to say it, and I was most anxious toprove you wrong, but now I know that you are right. "

Miss Egerton looked quietly at the excited child. 

"My dear, " she said, in her gentle tones, "I do not know--no oneknows--whether in the future you will be able to write. Our writersought to be our teachers. Do you think you are fit to teach, Jasmine?"

"I do not know, " said Jasmine, hanging her head. 

Miss Egerton got up, and laid her hand tenderly on the pretty littlecurly head. 

"This day has taught you a grand though painful lesson, dearest. Youwill be better able to write in the future for and because of thesuffering you have gone through to-day. Now, Jasmine, I will say nomore--you must go straight to bed and to sleep. In the morning you cantake your ten shillings to Poppy. Yes, dear, of course it is yours, and for the present the Spanish lace is mine. "

Jasmine, notwithstanding all her troubles, slept soundly that night, but Miss Egerton lay awake. 

"The time has come, " she said to herself, "when energetic measuresmust be taken. The girls--dear, brave, sweet girls--have undoubtedlyto a certain extent failed. Poor little Jasmine! she might have had aworse experience than the loss of that silly manuscript. But whatterrible dangers sweet little Daisy ran! Yes, I shall go and have atalk with Mrs. Ellsworthy to-morrow--I know she is in town. "

Accordingly, when Jasmine went off to see Poppy holding herhalf-sovereign firmly inside her glove, and dimly wondering if shewould have any money of her own left to buy some dinner withpresently, Miss Egerton stepped into an omnibus which presently puther down in the vicinity of Park Lane. She was fortunate in findingMrs. Ellsworthy at home, and also disengaged. 

The good little lady received her with delight, for Miss Egerton was aprime favorite with her. 

"Arthur tells me that you know my girls, " she said presently. "Hehints to me that you and he have a secret knowledge of the address ofmy naughty, troublesome girls. "

"I do know where they are to be found, " said Miss Egerton in hergravest tones; "but before I begin to talk about them I want totransact a little business with you. I know how kind you are, and howfond of helping people in distress. At the present moment a lady of myacquaintance is in great poverty; she has got some valuable Spanishlace. I should like to sell it for her. "

"I adore Spanish lace, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy, her eyes sparkling. 

"I thought I once heard you say you did, so I have brought it with me. May I show it to you?"

"How good of you, dear Miss Egerton; let me see it at once. RealSpanish lace is of great value. Oh, and white, too! What lovelyflounces!"

"The lady to whom they belonged know nothing of their real value; shewas disposing of both shawl and flounces yesterday evening for tenshillings. "

"Oh, Miss Egerton! oh, poor, poor thing! I will gladly give her fiftypounds for them. "

Miss Egerton coughed, and colored slightly. 

"The fact is, " she said, "I do not think she ought to sell them; theyare mementoes, and belonged to her mother. Mrs. Ellsworthy, I won'tdeceive you any longer. This lace is now the property of JasmineMainwaring. She took it to a pawnshop last night, and but for me wouldhave absolutely given it away; I was just in time to redeem it. Nowthe fact is, I happen to know that Primrose does not wish this lace tobe sold; I offered, long ago, to find a purchaser for it, but shelooked terribly distressed at the idea. What I should like to do wouldbe this; in short, in short--I do not quite know how to put it--"

"I know, I know, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy, clapping her hands, "you wantme to be a pawnbroker, and to lend money on it. I will, I will, withpleasure; oh, this is quite a fresh and delightful idea. "

"Give me ten pounds to help the poor child over her presentdifficulties, " said Miss Egerton, tears in her eyes. "Yes, ten poundsis quite enough. I will not take a penny more. "

"Now, Mrs. Ellsworthy, as we have comfortably disposed of this littlematter, I want to talk to you most seriously about the girls. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy bent her head to listen with rapt attention; and thetwo women were engaged for a couple of hours in most earnestconversation. 

That afternoon, when Jasmine, very weary and very depressed, toiled upthe stairs to her Palace Beautiful, she found two letters awaitingher. One was from Primrose, containing very cheerful news about Daisy. Daisy was really getting better, and had even been out for a fewminutes. The other letter had not come by the post, and Jasminewondered who her correspondent could be. She opened it eagerly. Itcontained a folded sheet of paper, out of which dropped two crisp Bankof England notes for five pounds each. The sheet of paper itselfcontained the following words:--

"DEAR JASMINE:--I have found a pawnbroker who better understands thevalue of your old lace. I have borrowed ten pounds for you on it, withliberty for you to redeem the shawl and flounces at your convenience. You can pay me back the ten shillings I lent you last night when youget change; but there is no hurry. Come and have tea this evening atsix, dear. I have much to talk over with you. 

 "Your affectionate friend, "AGNES EGERTON. "

Poor little Jasmine's delight can scarcely be conceived. She found itan easy matter to change one of the notes, and Poppy was in possessionof the balance of her money long before the evening. Her radiant faceseemed scarcely to belong to the same girl when she entered MissEgerton's room in time for that good lady's tea. 

"Jasmine, " said Miss Egerton, when the meal was over, and Jasmine hadexhausted her many expressions of rapture, and astonishment, andgratitude, "I have news to tell you. That dreadful man Dove hasreceived a long term of imprisonment. He won't trouble our dear littleDaisy again. "

"And Daisy is beginning to get better, " said Jasmine. "I heard fromPrimrose to-day, and she wrote quite hopefully about her. Yes, Isuppose I am glad that Mr. Dove is locked up; it was so very wickedof him to frighten our little pet. "

"I also had a letter from Primrose, " said Miss Egerton. "She isunhappy because she thinks that I am at personal inconvenience for themoney which I lent her instead of that which Dove stole. I am notinconvenienced for it--I can never regret making matters a littlesmooth for you poor children. I am going to write to Primroseto-night; but before I do so I should like to have a little talk withyou, Jasmine. "

"Oh, yes, " said Jasmine, "I feel very humble to-night, and verythankful. I am in the kind of humor to-night when I could listen toany amount of good advice. "

"Notwithstanding, Jasmine, " said Miss Egerton, with a slight smile, "that advisers are never considered the most agreeable people. Jasmine, dear, I have seen Mrs. Ellsworthy to-day. "

"Our darling Mrs. Ellsworthy, " said Jasmine, flushing brightly; "andhow was she? Does she know that I still care for her?"

"I think she does, Jasmine, and undoubtedly she cares for you. Sheagain offers to help you, and, Jasmine, dear, I think the time hascome when you must accept her help. "

Jasmine smiled, and flushed brightly. 

"I do not mind, " she said; "I mean I do not mind as Primrose minds, but I know, I fear that it will go very hard with Primrose. "

"It is often very hard to do right, Jasmine, " said Miss Egerton, "andI can quite believe that Primrose will find it difficult to accede toour plan. At the same time I feel convinced that although she willhave a great struggle, in the end she will yield to it. This is likethe 'Hill Difficulty' to Primrose, but she is not the sort of girl toturn away from it without conquering its steepness and its toils. Jasmine, dear, you three have tried bravely to help yourselves, andyou have--yes, I must say it, dear--you have failed. Primrose cannotspend her life as continual reader to Mrs. Mortlock; you see now, mydear little girl, that you are much too young to earn anything by yourpen, and little Daisy--ah! Jasmine, how thankful we ought to be thatwe have our little Daisy still with us--but Daisy must never againhave her peace of mind so seriously imperilled. Jasmine, you threegirls want two things--you want education, and you want protection. You want to be thoroughly educated, first of all, in those generalmatters which all cultivated women ought to know about; and secondly, in the special matter which each of you has a taste for. That specialtaste or talent ought to be developed to the very uttermost, so thatbye-and-bye each of you girls can take up a profession and earn herliving usefully to others, and with ease and comfort to herself. IfPrimrose feels that she can after a time paint very exquisitely andvery beautifully on porcelain, she ought to be apprenticed to one ofthe best houses, and there properly learn her trade; and you, Jasmine, whether you eventually earn your bread by writing beautiful stories, or lovely poems, or whether the artist within you develops into a lovefor making painted pictures instead of word pictures, you must formany years to come be taught to think and have your little mind andvivid imagination fed on the wise and great thoughts of others. Daisy's future we none of us can talk about, but I have no doubt shealso has her special gift. 

"Now, Jasmine, what a long, long lecture I am giving you, only the sumand substance of it all is, dear, that I want to protect you, and Mrs. Ellsworthy is willing and anxious to advance a sufficient sum of moneyto have you all properly educated. When you go to bed to-night I amgoing to write very fully to Primrose on the subject. "

"I wonder if she will refuse, " said Jasmine, speaking in a verythoughtful tone; "she is very, very determined. You think she willregard it as a 'Hill Difficulty' which she ought to climb. I think shewill regard it as a fearful, dreadful temptation which she ought toput away. "

Miss Egerton smiled, for Jasmine's sunny little face looked so graveand anxious, and there was such a disturbed frown between her brows. 

"At any rate, dear, " continued the governess, "you will not oppose myscheme. You will see, dear, that the greatest strength sometimes showsitself in yielding. Jasmine, dear, are you not quite tired of havingyour own way?"

"A little, " answered Jasmine. "I mean, " she added, "that I never againwill offer my stories to papers recommended by people like Mr. AndMrs. Dove. "

CHAPTER L. 

A DAZZLING DAY. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy felt very much excited when Miss Egerton left her. Shepaced up and down her pretty boudoir, her cheeks were flushed and herpretty eyes bore traces of tears. Miss Egerton had told the goodlittle lady for the first time the sad story of Daisy's terribleadventure with Mr. Dove. All the poor little child's terror, and herfinal flight into the country, were graphically described by the goodwoman. 

"She went to find me, little darling, little darling, " repeated Mrs. Ellsworthy, tears running down her cheeks. "Oh, my dear little girl!to think of her being turned away from my very gates. "

When Miss Egerton at last took her leave Mrs. Ellsworthy felt too muchexcited to stay quiet; and when her husband came into the room hefound her much perturbed. 

"Joseph, " she said, running up to him, "I have such a story for you, "and then she once again repeated little Daisy's adventure. 

"And Joseph, " she added, "Miss Egerton and I have quite agreed thatyou and I are to educate the girls; and, Joseph, the dear goodcreature is resolved that they shall stay with her in town, and thatyou and I are only to have the pleasure of spending any amount ofmoney on them; but I will not have it. Joseph, I am resolved that theyshall come to us at Shortlands, and have the instructions of the verybest governess I can procure for them, and then in the spring thedarlings shall come up to town, and have masters for every conceivablesort of accomplishment. Oh, Joseph, we shall have our Jasmine yet, asour very own. "

Mr. Ellsworthy smiled, kissed his wife, patted her on the cheek, toldher to do just what she liked, and went downstairs to his belovedbooks. But Mrs. Ellsworthy's excitement kept her on thorns for thegreater part of the evening. 

That night she dreamt of the Mainwarings; dreamt that she saw Daisy'spiteous little face when she was turned away from her gates; dreamtagain a brighter dream, that Jasmine had her arms round her neck, andwas calling her mother; that Primrose, with none of her sweet dignityabated, was smiling at her, and saying gratefully, "I accept yourkindness; I will gladly take your money; I will come and live with youat Shortlands, and be to you as a daughter. " And Daisy was saying, inthat funny little sententious voice of hers which she sometimes used, "Weren't we all naughty, and aren't we good now, and is it not a goodthing that our pride should have a fall?"

Mrs. Ellsworthy sighed deeply when she awoke from this beautifuldream. 

"It was but a dream, " she said to herself, and she went downstairssadly and soberly to her breakfast. 

Mr. Ellsworthy had breakfasted at a much earlier hour, and the littlelady had her beautifully-appointed table to herself. 

"Now, if the girls were all here, " she thought, "how pleasant andcheerful it would be! Primrose should sit just opposite to me, andpour out the coffee; she would do it very nicely and deftly, and wouldlook so sweet and daughterly. And Jasmine--little witch!--I do notsuppose she would keep the same seat two mornings running, and Ishould have to tell her over and over not to jump up every moment torush to the window. Daisy would sit near me, and, of course, I shouldhave to have a special chair made for that funny kitten of hers. Iwould dress the three girls in white--white is so sweet for girls--andhow Jasmine and Daisy would chatter; their voices are very sweet intone, and they never talk too fast, so as to make one's head ache. Ioften fancy I hear Jasmine talking to me now, her voice is sobright--and--oh, dear! is not that very like her voice? Who is thatasking for me in the hall? Surely, surely, it must be JasmineMainwaring. No other voice that I know has such a ring about it. "

Mrs. Ellsworthy half rose from her seat, half sat down again, and thecolor of eager anticipation flushed her cheeks. 

The eager voice outside came nearer, light steps sounded in the hall, and the next moment Jasmine had her arms round her friend's neck, andwas kissing her, while both woman and girl wept. 

"I had to come to you, " said Jasmine, while she wiped some brightfalling tears away. "I have not come to stay, nor to give you ouraddress, nor to do anything of which Primrose would not approve; butafter Miss Egerton told me last night all that you wanted to do forus, and how you still loved us, I just had to run round and thank youand kiss you. Primrose and Daisy are still in the country, and Daisyis better. Aren't you glad she will be all right again soon?"

"Have breakfast with me, Jasmine, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I wasthinking so much about you, and so longing to see you, and to have youin the room seems like a beautiful dream realized. Sit down now andhave some breakfast with me. "

"I did not have any at home, so I will, " answered Jasmine. "I stayedawake half the night thinking about you. Oh, you are a real, realfriend!"

"And I spent the greater part of the night dreaming about you threegirls, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Have some buttered toast, Jasmine, andsome of this apricot preserve. "

"Did you dream about us last night?" asked Jasmine. "Did you really?You must love us very much. "

"I believe I do. Now, Jasmine, I will not ask you for your address. Iwill do nothing more to really help you until we get Primrose'sletter, but I want you all the same to spend this whole long day withme. "

Jasmine smiled, and her cheeks flushed. 

"It would be very luxurious, " she said, "and such a change from ourattics, although Daisy does call them a Palace Beautiful. Will youtake me for a drive, if I stay, Mrs. Ellsworthy, and will you let meimagine myself quite a rich little girl all day long? You must notgive me any presents, you know, for Primrose would not like that; butI can imagine I have got all kinds of things, and I wonder, oh! Iwonder, if we might call to see Poppy this afternoon?"

"We will take her too for a drive in the Park, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I have heard a great deal of that Poppy of yours, and I think she isquite a splendid kind of girl. "

Thus a very delightful programme was unexpectedly realized by twolittle hard-working London girls, for Mrs. Ellsworthy gave herself upto be enchanting, and took Poppy away from her work of drudgery, andfrom the astonished ladies of the boarding-house. 

Poppy, in her dazzlingly brilliant hat, and with her cheeks quiteflaming with excitement, stepped into the carriage, and drove away, facing Mrs. Ellsworthy and Jasmine, to the great scandal of thefootman, who was obliged, sorely against his will, to assist her toher place. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy took the girls all round the Park, and then to a placeof amusement, and finally she presented Poppy with a very neat browndress and jacket, and hat to match, saying, as she did so, that reallyJasmine, even though she forbade her to offer her any presents, couldnot lay a like embargo with regard to her friends. 

"It's of all the dazzlings, the most blindingly beautiful, " wasPoppy's oft-reiterated comment. "Oh! won't I have something to tellthem ladies about bye-and-bye! Oh, my! Miss Jasmine, what a neat hat, miss! I don't mind denuding this one now, for I has got a 'at from aWest End shop what beats anything that Miss Slowcum wears forgentility. "

Finally, Jasmine and Poppy both returned to their respective homes, tired, but wonderfully happy little girls. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy also laid her head that night on her pillow with awonderful sense of satisfaction. 

"Even if they do not come to me--although they must come, " shesoliloquized, "I am glad--I shall all my life be glad that I gaveJasmine a happy day. "

CHAPTER LI. 

A LETTER. 

A morning or two after this, when Daisy had greatly advanced towardsconvalescence, and was sitting up in Hannah's tiny little sitting-roomto partake of a very dainty little breakfast, Primrose received a longletter from Miss Egerton. This was what it contained:--

"MY DEAR PRIMROSE, "You of course know that that wicked man Dove has received thesentence which he so richly deserves. Alas, we cannot get back all thestolen money, but we must manage without it, dear, and you are nevereven to talk of repaying me for the furnishing of dear little Daisy'sPalace Beautiful. It has been a joy to me to have you, dear, and Ihope you will be able to bring Daisy back with you, and to live herein peace and comfort next winter. Dear Primrose, it is more and moreevident to me that young girls should not venture to come to Londonalone. You showed much bravery in your undertaking; but, my deargirl, the pitfalls you exposed yourselves to were awful tocontemplate. I don't want to make you unhappy, dear, after all youhave suffered with regard to Daisy, but I must now tell you of alittle adventure which our poor dear Jasmine has had. You know howvery anxious she has been to see herself in print. Of course, I couldnot conscientiously encourage her, for although she may have talent(this I am not prepared to say), yet she is a great deal too young tohave anything printed. All books worth anything should teach, andsurely our dear little girl is only at the age to be taught herself. 

"Well, Primrose, the little maid was fired with the strongestambition. She wrote her novel in secret, and one day, accompanied bythat good-natured Poppy Jenkins and sweet little Daisy, wentCitywards, and simply plunged--for I can use no other word--into theunknown and to me rather awful realm of publishers. 

"Poor child, of course none of the good houses would even look at herimmature productions; but she was taken in by a man who professedhimself to be the editor of a monthly paper--_The Joy-bell_ was itssilly title. On an understanding that her story was to be printed inthe pages of _The Joy-bell_--of course I've never seen the paper, andshould not dream of reading anything so rubbishy--poor Jasmine wasinduced to subscribe two pounds five shillings, or, in other words, toundertake to buy one hundred copies of _The Joy-bell_. Of course sheimagined that her printed words would immediately bring her fame. Shepaid her money, and looked out for her story. "

"Where did she get the money from?" thought the anxious reader. 

"Primrose, how wrinkled up your brows are;" called out little Daisy. 

Primrose sighed, and resumed her perusal of the closely-writtensheets. 

"On the very evening our little Daisy ran away Jasmine received herfirst proofs. They were barbarously printed on wretched paper, but thepoor child was in such trouble then that she scarcely noticed them. Afterwards she did read them with care, and was surprised to find whata very small portion of her story had been printed. 

"You know that I was unexpectedly detained in the country by theserious illness and death of my poor cousin. Jasmine was not doing aswell as we supposed by her profession of dressing dinner-tables. Thedear child was determined not to ask help from any one, not even fromyou, Primrose, and she made a valiant effort to support herself on hertiny earnings. Alas, her purse was all too soon emptied, and she hadalso upon her the awful load of debt, for Poppy Jenkins it seems, lenther the money to get that rubbishy story published. In her despair shethought of _The Joy-bell_, and went off to see the editor. 

"She was met at the office (poor child, how she could venture therealone is a mystery to me) with the intelligence that _The Joy-bell_had ceased to exist, and the editor had decamped with poor Poppy'swages. 

"Luckily I came home that evening, and found your poor little sisterin sad trouble. I am thankful to say I have been able to relieve herpresent necessities without the slightest inconvenience to myself. Jasmine has been greatly shaken, but she is better again now, and ismost anxious that you should not be troubled. I only tell you thismuch, dear Primrose, because I consider it my bounden duty that youshould know how matters really stand. Rest happy about Poppy; hermoney has been returned to her, and Jasmine has sufficient for herpresent necessities. On second thoughts, I had better perhaps let youinto my little secret. I have borrowed ten pounds for Jasmine on thatvaluable Spanish lace of her mother's. Do not imagine that the lace isgone; it will be returned to Jasmine whenever she can refund themoney. It was necessary, dear Primrose, to take it, and I acted as Iam sure you would think right in the matter. Poppy had to be paid herwages. 

"Now, dear Primrose, I want to talk with you very seriously on anothermatter. You must own, dear, that though you have tried bravely youhave not yet, any of you, succeeded in earning your living. It isalmost a year since you began to try, and you have made, I fear, butsmall headway. You, Primrose, have done best, and have made fewermistakes than your sisters, but even you would not care to spend allyour life in continual reading to Mrs. Mortlock. Jasmine can only earna precarious and uncertain living by dressing dinner-tables. Ofcourse, no one even expects dear little Daisy to contribute to thefamily purse at present, but at the same time she need not put us intoterrible frights, nor be in the power of wicked and designing people. My dear girls have had a trial of their own way; and now I think theyought to take the advice of those older and wiser than themselves. 

"If, dear Primrose, you want to earn your living well--and nothingmakes a woman braver and better than being able to supportherself--you must be educated to take up some one profession in anefficient manner. Money must be spent for this purpose, and you mustnot be too proud to accept money from those who really love you. Ihave been to see Mrs. Ellsworthy, and she and I had a long, long talkabout you girls. She is full of kindness, and she really and trulyloves you. It would be worse than folly, it would be wicked, to throwsuch friendship away. Mrs. Ellsworthy tells me that she has beenconsulting your old friend Mr. Danesfield about you. Both he and Mrs. Ellsworthy are arranging plans which they trust you will all listen towith patience. These plans shall be fully disclosed to you on yourreturn to town, but I may as well mention here that it will beabsolutely necessary that you should give up your present lives, andshould enter seriously on the great work of education. Money must bespent for this object; but when you are able to earn well, bye-and-byeit will be in your power to repay the money to the kind friends whosehappiness it is now to lend it to you. 

 "Dear Primrose, "I am, yours affectionately, "AGNES EGERTON. "

There was much in this letter to pain Primrose, and a year before shemight have torn it up and determined in no way to be guided by it; buta year had brought her some very strange and some very sadexperiences. She was troubled and shocked to think that Jasmine shouldhave taken poor Poppy's hard earnings. She was deeply distressed atowing herself so much to Miss Egerton, and now also so large a debt toArthur Noel. She had worked hard, and had done wonderfully wellconsidering, but nevertheless at the present moment, owing to adversecircumstances, she was plunged in debt in many directions, and sawlittle hope of repaying what she owed. Life seemed very difficult toPrimrose just then, and hot tears rose to her eyes. 

Should she go still farther in debt, and give up the great struggle tobe independent? Oh, no, she could not--she could not. Her pride roseup in rebellion; her passionate longing to be free and her ownmistress, to be beholden to no one for the necessaries of life, wastoo strong to be easily crushed. Better the dullest life, better be a"continual reader" all her days than take the money of strangers. Thiswas her feeling, and it grew so strong moment by moment, that shemight have sat down to answer Miss Egerton's letter there and then butfor a rather innocent little remark made by Daisy. 

"Dear Primrose, I forgot it in all the other great trouble, but I dowant to send fifteen shillings as soon as possible to dear good Poppy. She lent me fifteen shillings to buy a single third to come toRosebury, and I forgot all about it. Please, Primrose, try and spareme fifteen shillings to send to Poppy. "

"So you too are in debt, Daisy, " said Primrose. "Oh, dear, what shallI do? Daisy, dear, forgive me, I ought not to mind anything now youare growing better, but my heart is heavy, and I feel almost crushed. Yes, Daisy, dear Poppy must have her money. I won't write to MissEgerton until to-morrow. "

Here Primrose wiped some tears from her sweet brown eyes, but she tookgood care not to allow Daisy to see that she was crying. 

CHAPTER LII. 

"I LOVE MRS. ELLSWORTHY. "

The next afternoon, to the surprise of both Primrose and Daisy, Noelarrived. Daisy greeted her Prince with rapture, but refused to hearany particulars of Dove's trial. 

"I want to forget him, " she said. "You say he is in the dungeon now. Idon't want to think of it. If I think of it long I shall begin to beso sorry for him. "

"We will talk of something better and pleasanter, " said Noel. "Howsoon are you coming back to your Palace Beautiful, little Princess?"

Daisy looked anxiously across the room at Primrose. Primrose wasbending over some needlework, and a ray of sunlight was shining on herfair head. She did not raise her eyes or respond in any way to thelittle sister's glance. 

"We did think of coming back to Miss Egerton's in the autumn, " saidDaisy, "but last night Primrose--May I tell, Primrose?"

Primrose put down her work suddenly and came up to where Noel andDaisy were sitting. 

"It is just this, " she said; "Daisy did not know she had such a proudand obstinate sister. We had made our plans for the autumn--at leastwe simply intended to struggle on, and hope and watch for brighterdays--but yesterday I had a letter from Miss Egerton, and some of itscontents troubled me a good deal. Daisy saw that I was unhappy, and Itold her what Miss Egerton wanted. I thought the dear little one wouldobject, but she only said, 'Oh, let us be brave, Primrose; our PalaceBeautiful will be all the brighter if we really earn it. ' Then sheadded, 'I am beginning to wish to earn a little money myself, for Iwant to give a very kind person back what he gave me. '"

Noel gave Daisy's thin little hand a squeeze. Primrose looked at thetwo, and stopped speaking. After a moment's pause she said suddenly--

"I don't like the plan; I never can like it. Mrs. Ellsworthy is allthat is kind, but she is no relation of ours. She lived in the sameplace with us for years, and she never even called on our mother. Oh, I don't blame her; she naturally thought that people who lived in anhumble little cottage at Rosebury were not ladies, but you see we areladies, and we cannot help feeling sore. I may agree to the plan--Imay be forced to agree to it for Jasmine's and Daisy's sakes--but Ican never, never like it. "

Here Primrose went out of the room. 

"She was crying for a long time last night, " whispered Daisy; "ithurts her dreadfully to take Mrs. Ellsworthy's money. I don't supposeI mind it so much, because I was coming to Mrs. Ellsworthy to ask herfor some money. I did not find her, and I was miserable until youfound me and helped me, Prince. Then I love Mrs. Ellsworthy, and sodoes Jasmine. "

"That is it, Eyebright, " answered Noel; "we do not mind receivingkindnesses and favors from those we love. Yes, I am very sorry forPrimrose; I wish matters could be differently arranged for her. "

While Noel was speaking Hannah came into the room with a cup ofbeef-tea for the little invalid. 

"You have done her a sight of good already, sir, " she said, peeringwith her short-sighted eyes into the young man's face. "I don't knowwhat we'd have done for her if you hadn't come that day, and talked toher, and got her to tell you what that most villainous person inLondon was after. "

"Oh, don't, Hannah, " said Daisy, "he's in a dungeon now--poor, poorMr. Dove; I must not think about him if I mean to get well. "

Here Daisy shivered, and added under her breath, with her little paleface working--

"I did promise it very faithfully that I would never tell about thesweetmeats. "

"He was a bad man, Daisy, and he richly deserves his punishment, " saidNoel, in an almost stern voice, for he wished to check any unhealthysentimentality on the part of the delicate child. "You must think ofwhat you and your sisters have suffered, and be glad he has beenprevented doing any more mischief. "

"Drink up your beef-tea, missy, " said Hannah. "Please, Mr. Noel, sir, will you hold the cup for little miss? Oh, my heart alive, what--whatis that?"

"I don't see anything, " said Noel, "what has frightened you, Hannah?"

But Hannah had grown white, and looked very queer, and a moment aftershe hurried out of the room. 

"I never knew your servant was nervous, " said Noel to Daisy. 

"Nervous?" she repeated, laughing merrily. "Is it Hannah? why shealways says she hasn't a nerve in her whole body. She's sometimesalmost cross with me for being nervous, Mr. Prince. "

Noel stayed some little time longer with the sisters, and thenreturned to Rosebury in time to catch the evening train to London. When he got there he went straight to Mrs. Ellsworthy's house. Thatlittle lady was anxiously expecting him, and plied him with manyquestions on the spot. 

"How is she taking it, Arthur?" she asked. "I have been forming andmaturing my plans, and I now think a resident governess at Shortlandswould be the nicest arrangement for the girls. They cannot be parted, that is very evident, and as Primrose must be more than eighteen shewould not care to go to school. Yes, a resident governess seems theplan of plans. I would take them up to London early in the spring, andgive them the advantage of the very best masters. "

"Primrose seems very unhappy about it, " replied Noel. "She may in theend consent to some scheme for perfecting her education, but I'm quitesure she will not go, nor allow her sisters to go to Shortlands tolive a life of simple luxury. I am sorry for you, Mrs. Ellsworthy, butI know Primrose will never consent to that. "

"I don't think you are sorry for me, Arthur, " answered the prettylittle lady. "In your heart of hearts you quite agree with thatnaughty, bad Primrose. You had rather the girls lived in their attic, and encountered another dreadful Mr. Dove, and fell into the hands ofanother designing publisher, than have them safe and happy atShortlands. Oh, it is a plot between you all to deprive me of my greatpleasure. Oh, why will girls, and young men, too, be so perverse?"

Noel smiled. 

"I am sorry for both you and Primrose, " he said. "I am convinced shewill never agree to your present scheme, although she may allow you tohelp her to perfect her education. "

CHAPTER LIII. 

TELEGRAPH WIRES. 

Daisy was quite right when she said that Hannah was not subject tonervous attacks. Hannah scorned nerves, and did not believe in them. When she was told that the human body was as full of nerves as anelectric battery was full of electricity, that nerves, in short, werelike numberless telegraphic-wires, prevailing the whole human frame, she stared at the speakers, and pronounced them slightly daft. 

Yet Hannah went out of her own little sitting-room on that summerafternoon with, as she expressed it, trembling sensations running downher back, and causing her fingers to shake when she handled her cupsand saucers. 

"Dear, dear, " she said to herself, "one would think I had some ofthose awful telegrams in me which Miss Primrose said was the nervoussystem. Why, I'm all upset from top to toe. I never had a good view ofhim before, for I didn't pay no heed to nobody when my dear littleMiss Daisy was so ill; but I do say that the cut of the hand and theturn of the head is as like--as like as two peas. Now I do wonder--no, no, it can't be. Well, anyhow, my name ain't Hannah Martin if I don'tfind out where he comes from, and who he really is. Well, well, well--why this trembling won't leave me, and I don't dare go back intothe room. I suppose I have got a few telegraphs, and I mustn't neverlaugh at poor little Miss Daisy again when she says she's nervous. "

Hannah sat and rested for about half an hour--then she drank off aglass of cold water--then she washed her face and hands--then she saidaloud that the telegrams should not get the better of her, and thenshe prepared as nice a little dinner as she could for Noel and the twosisters. 

That evening, after Daisy was in bed, she came into the room wherePrimrose was quietly reading. 

"You haven't never come across no one the least like that brother ofyours in the London streets, Miss Primrose?" she asked. "London's abig place, and strange things happen there--yes, very, very strangethings. "

"Oh, Hannah, how you startle me!" said Primrose. "I come across mypoor little brother Arthur? How could I? Why, he must be dead for manyand many a year. "

"Not a bit of him, " said Hannah; "I don't believe he's dead. He was afine, hearty, strong child, and nothing ever seemed to ail him. Oh, itrises up before me now what a beautiful picture he made when he stoodin his little red velvet dress by your mamma's knee, and she so proudof him! There's no mistake, but he was the very light of her eyes. Shetook him up to London, and a nursemaid--not me, you may be quitesure--took him out. She went into a big shop, and the child was by herside. She kept him standing by her as she ordered some things acrossthe counter, and, I suppose, she turned her head for a minute, forwhen she looked round again he was gone. From that day to this he wasnever heard of, though everything you can think of was done. Oh, mypoor, poor mistress, what she did suffer!"

"Hannah, how excited you look!" said Primrose. "Why, you are alltrembling. It is a terrible story, but as I say to Daisy about Mr. Dove, don't let us think of it. "

"Right you are, honey, " said Hannah; "what can't be cured, you know. If you don't mind, Miss Primrose, I'll just sit down for a minute. I'mnot to say quite myself. Oh, it ain't nothing, dearie; just a bit ofthe trembles, and to prove to old Hannah that she is getting on inyears. I nursed you all, darling--him, my beautiful boy, and youthree. Miss Primrose, dear, how old would you say that Mr. Noel was. I didn't have a fair look at him until to-day, and he seems quite ayoung sort of man. "

"Miss Egerton says that he is twenty-six, Hannah. "

"Twenty-six, " answered Hannah; "don't interrupt me for a minute, dear. I'm comparing dates--twenty-six--twenty-six. Law, goodness graciousme! You haven't never noticed, Miss Primrose, that he have a kind of amole--long-shaped, and rather big, a little way up his left arm? Haveyou, now, dearies?"

"No, really, Hannah, I've never seen Mr. Noel's arm without hiscoat-sleeve. How very queerly you are speaking, Hannah. "

"Not at all, dearie; it's only because I've got the trembles on me. Well, love, and so you don't want to be under no compliments to thatMrs. Ellsworthy, who never took no notice of your poor dear ma?"

Primrose sighed. 

"I feel sore about it, Hannah, " she said. "But I must try not to betoo proud. I will ask God to help me to do what is really right in thematter. "

"That's it, honey, and maybe you won't have to do it after all. Iwonder, now, dear, if Mr. Noel is well off. "

"Really, Hannah, I think you have got Mr. Noel on the brain! Yes, Ihave heard Miss Egerton say that he is a rich man. He was the adoptedson of a very wealthy person, who left him all his property. "

"Adopted, was he?" said Hannah. "On my word, these tremblings areterrible! Miss Primrose, dear, I have come in to say that I may begoing a little journey in the morning. I'll be off by the first dawn, so as to be back by night, and the shop needn't be opened at allto-morrow. There's a nice cold roast fowl for you and Miss Daisy, anda dish of strawberries which I gathered with my own hands not an hourback, so you'll have no trouble with your dinner. You see that MissDaisy eats plenty of cream with her strawberries, dear, for cream'sfattening; and now good-night. "

CHAPTER LIV. 

A DISCOVERY. 

Hannah Martin had never been much of a traveller. It was years sinceshe set her foot inside a railway carriage. She often boasted of herabnormal lack of nerves, but she was also heard to say that accidentsby rail were fearful and common, and likely to happen at any moment. She sighed for the old coaching days, and hated the thought of alllocomotives propelled by steam. Nevertheless, early in the morning ofthe day following her interview with Primrose, Hannah, in her usualneat print dress, was seen to enter the little railway station atRosebury, was observed to purchase for herself a third-class returnticket, and after carefully selecting her carriage, to depart forLondon. 

In the afternoon of that same day Hannah reached her destination, andsecuring the first porter whose attention she could arrest, she placeda bit of paper in his hand, and asked him to direct her to the addresswritten upon it. The man screwed up his eyes, stared at the paper, and suggested that Hannah should place herself in a hansom, and directthe driver to take her to Park Lane. Hannah had not an idea what ahansom meant; she had never visited London since her early days. Shestared with horror at the proposed vehicle, and finally selecting thecreakiest and most uninviting of the four-wheelers, drove off to herdestination. 

Mrs. Ellsworthy was enjoying some very fragrant tea in her littleboudoir when a servant announced that a person of the name of Martinhad come up from the country in a four-wheeler, and would be glad tosee her as soon as possible. 

"What kind of person, Henry?" asked the little lady. "I am very tiredjust now, and I must go out to dinner in less than two hours. A personfrom the country in a four-wheeler? What can she want with me?"

"She seems a respectable sort of body, ma'am, " answered the footman, "but nervous and shaky, and mortal afraid to step out of the cab; thecabby and me we had both to lend her a hand in alighting, ma'am. She'ssitting now in a chair in the hall, and I can see she's upset with herjourney, but _respectable_; there's no word for the neatness of herperson, ma'am. "

"She is probably poor, and wants me to help her, " replied Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I hate seeing beggars, for I find it absolutelyimpossible to say _no_ to them. Show her up, Henry, and give her ahint that I'm going out to dinner, and can only spare her a very fewmoments. "

Hannah could not certainly be accused when she entered Mrs. Ellsworthy's room, of any want of nerves. Her hands were shaking, herlips were tremulous, and her face, as she entered the room, becameperfectly white. 

"You'll excuse me, ma'am, " she said. "I'm most sorry to trouble you, but I'm that anxious, I scarce know what I'm doing. I undertook arailway journey--which I don't think right--and I came here throughmost crowded streets in a dreadful vehicle, for I just wanted to askyou a single question, ma'am. "

"Sit down, my poor woman, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy, who, the moment shelooked at Hannah, began to have a dim sort of idea that she had seenher before, and also became full of pity for her. "Sit down. How youtremble! I am sorry to see you are so nervous. "

"Nervous, ma'am!" echoed Hannah. "That I should hear that said of me!No, ma'am, it ain't nervous I am, but I'm rather worried with thetremblings during the last few hours. I've come to ask you a plainquestion, ma'am, plain and direct. It's about the young man Mr. Noel. Have he, ma'am, or have he not, a mole on his left arm? I'd like yesor no, ma'am. "

"A mole on his left arm!" echoed Mrs. Ellsworthy. "My good woman, whata very extraordinary question; you really quite startle me. Has ArthurNoel a mole on his left arm? Yes, of course he has; I used to noticeit when he was a child. I suppose people don't outgrow moles, so heprobably has it still. Why, Mrs. Martin--I am told your name isMartin--how very white you are. Would you--would you like a glass ofwine?"

"Thank you, ma'am--no wine, thank you, ma'am. I'm a bit upset. Yes, I'm a bit upset, for I believe Mr. Arthur Noel is my long-lost baby. "

The footman downstairs had given Mrs. Martin careful directions not tooccupy more than a moment or two of his mistress's valuable time; butthough he waited on the stairs and lingered about in theentrance-hall, no bell summoned him to show out this remarkablevisitor. An hour passed away, an hour and a half, and still Mrs. Martin remained in close conversation with Mrs. Ellsworthy. At the endof the hour and a half Henry looked earnestly at the clock, sighed, and felt that it was his duty to go into the room to let Mrs. Ellsworthy know that she would be late for her dinner-party. He foundthat good lady sitting by her writing-table with very flushed cheeksand tearful eyes, and Hannah standing in quite a familiar attitude byher side. 

"Give this note to Mr. Ellsworthy when he comes in, Henry, and orderthe carriage to be brought round directly. I am not going to dine outto-night. I will just go upstairs to change my bonnet. And Henry, takeMrs. Martin down to the servants' hall, and give her some dinner. Sheis coming out with me in the carriage, so be quick, please. "

As Mrs. Ellsworthy stood before her glass re-arranging her toilet hermaid saw her wiping some tears from her pretty eyes. 

"Oh, my bonny Arthur, " she said under her breath. "Oh, what your poor, poor mother must have suffered. "

When the carriage came to the door Mrs. Ellsworthy gave the coachmanNoel's address, and the two women drove there at once. They werefortunate in finding the young man within. He too was engaged to dineout that night, but he did not go. Hannah, Mrs. Ellsworthy, and he hada long conference, which lasted until late in the evening, and whenMr. Ellsworthy joined them he was told a very wonderful story. Hannahreturned to Devonshire on the following morning very well pleased withher successful expedition. 

"If there had been any doubt, " she said to herself, as she was beingwhirled homewards in her third-class carriage, "if there had been anydoubt after the sight of that mole on his dear, blessed arm, why, thelittle shirt which Mrs. Ellsworthy showed me, and which she took offhis back herself after them horses had all but killed him, would provethat he's my own boy. Could I ever forget marking that shirt incross-stitch, and making such a bungle over the A, and thinking I'dput Mainwaring in full, and then getting lazy, and only making themark A. M. ? Well, I was served out for that piece of laziness, for myboy might have been brought back to his mother but for it. Dear, dear!Well, there's no mistaking my own A. M. , and when I peered close withmy glasses on I could even see where I unpicked the A. And did it overagain. Dear, dear, shall I ever forgive myself for not doing thesurname in full--his poor, poor mother! Well, I mustn't think ofthat--it's a merciful Providence that has led me to him now, and he'sas darling and elegant a young man as ever I clapped eyes on, and asfond of the young ladies as can be even now. 

"'I always felt somehow as if they were my sisters, ' he said to me. Well, well, God be praised for his mercies. "

CHAPTER LV. 

AN INVITATION FOR THE LADIES OF PENELOPE MANSION. 

"There are limits to all things, " said Mrs. Mortlock; "there's a time, as the blessed Bible says, to sorrow, and a time to rejoice, and whatI say too is, that there is a time when a woman's patience may beexhausted. Yes, Mrs. Dredge, you may look at me with as round eyes asyou please--I know they are round though I can't see them, but I willsay, if it's my last dying breath, that the moment for my 'continualreader' to return has arrived. Miss Slowcum, no doubt you'llcorroborate what I say, ma'am. "

"It's hot weather for young bright flowers to shed their fragrance onthe London streets, " replied Miss Slowcum; "it's the kind of weatherwhen flowers fade. I should imagine, Mrs. Mortlock, that your'continual reader' was doing better for herself in the country. "

Mrs. Mortlock's face became very red. 

"Better for herself, is she?" she said, "and is that all the thanks Iget for keeping my post vacant, and living through days the wearinessof which none may know. If Miss Primrose Mainwaring is doing betterfor herself in the country she is welcome to stay there. The post is agood one, a light and an easy one, and I can get many another lass tofill it. "

"I think, ma'am, " said Mrs. Dredge, whose face had grown wonderfullysmooth and pleasant of late, "that the dear girls will all be in townthis week, and most likely Miss Primrose will come to pay you a visit. Oh, they are nice girls, pretty, elegant girls, just the kind of girlsmy good man would like to have been papa to. I can't help shivering, even now when I think of that wicked man Dove, and what a state he putdear little Daisy into. "

"If praises of the Mainwarings is to begin, " answered Mrs. Mortlock inher tartest voice, "what I say is, let me retire. It's all very wellfor them as has right to talk well of the absent, but when one of theabsent ones is neglecting her duty the lady who has weak eyes feelsit. Miss Slowcum, ma'am, have you any objection to moving with me intothe drawing-room? I can lend you that pattern you admired so much fortatting if you read me the latest gossip from the evening papers, ma'am. "

Mrs. Mortlock rose from her chair, and, accompanied by Miss Slowcum, left the room. Miss Slowcum took a ladylike interest in all kinds ofneedlework, and the desire to possess the tatting pattern overcameher great reluctance to read aloud to the very tart old lady. 

Mrs. Mortlock placed herself in the most comfortable arm-chair theroom afforded, and having secured her victim, began instantly totyrannize over her. 

"Now, Miss Slowcum, read up chirrupy and cheerful please. None of yourdrawling, by way of genteel voice, for me--I like my gossip crisp. Iwill say this of that dear girl Primrose Mainwaring, that she did hergossip crisp. "

"You really are a very unaccountable person, Mrs. Mortlock, " repliedMiss Slowcum. "You begin by abusing Primrose Mainwaring, and then youpraise her in the most absurd manner. I hope the refined reading of acultivated lady is not to be compared to the immature utterances of aschool-girl. If that is so, Mrs. Mortlock, even for the sake of thetatting pattern, I cannot consent to waste my words on you. "

"Oh, my good creature, " said Mrs. Mortlock, who by no means wished tobe left to solitude and herself, "you read in a very pretty style ofyour own--obsolete it may be--h'm--I suppose we must expectthat--mature it certainly is; yes, my dear, quite mature. If I praisePrimrose Mainwaring, and a good girl she was when she was withme--yes, a good, painstaking girl, thankful for her mercies--it's nodisparagement to you, Miss Slowcum. You're mellow, my dear, and youcan't help being mellow, and Primrose Mainwaring is crisp, and shecan't help being crisp. Oh, goodness gracious me! what sound is thatfalls on my ear?"

"An old friend's voice, I hope, Mrs. Mortlock, " said a pleasantgirlish tone, and Primrose Mainwaring herself bent down over the oldlady and kissed her. 

Notwithstanding all her grumbling Mrs. Mortlock had taken an immensefancy to Primrose. She returned her embrace warmly, and even took herhand and squeezed it. 

"I'd like to see you, dear, " she said, "but I'm getting blinder andblinder. Have you come back to your continual reading, dear? I hopeso, for you do the gossip in a very chirruping style. "

While Mrs. Mortlock was speaking to Primrose Miss Slowcum had takenDaisy in her arms, and covered her sweet little face with kisses, forMiss Slowcum was not all sour and affected, and she had shed somebitter tears in secret over the child's unaccountable disappearance. Mrs. Dredge and Mrs. Flint had both surrounded Jasmine, who, in awhite summer frock, was looking extremely pretty, and was entertainingthem with some animated conversation. 

"Yes, " said Primrose to Mrs. Mortlock, "I will come to read to you asoften as ever I can. I shall know my plans better after to-morrow. Wethree girls returned to London a couple of days ago, and we received aletter from our kind friend Mrs. Ellsworthy. You don't know her, perhaps, but she is a very kind friend of ours. She is making someplans for us, but we don't quite know what they are. She has writtenus a letter, however, and it is on account of that letter that we haveall come to you to-night. She has invited us to come to her to-morrow, and she wants all the friends who were kind to us, and who helped usin every way during our year in London, to come in the evening to hearwhat the plans are. Even if you can't see, Mrs. Mortlock, it willamuse you to come, and I hope so much you will do so. I will try tostay close to you myself when you do come, so you need not feellonely. "

"My dear, you are very kind, " said Mrs. Mortlock, and the other ladiesalso said the Mainwarings were kind, and they sent their dutifulrespects to Mrs. Ellsworthy and were pleased to accept. Accordingly, Primrose gave them full directions with regard to the right address, and the hour at which they were to be present; and finally the girlsleft Mrs. Flint and her three lady boarders in a state of considerableexcitement and so deeply interested in what was about to occur thatthey forgot to grumble at each other. 

CHAPTER LVI. 

A PALACE BEAUTIFUL. 

Hannah Martin had come up with her young ladies to London, and shealso was invited by Mrs. Ellsworthy to come to her house. The girlsall thought Hannah very much altered; they could not understand herqueer illusions, or her mysterious little nods, or in particular theway she used to stare at Jasmine, and say under her breath, "Yes, yes, as like as two peas. What a blind old woman I was not to see it when Iclapped eyes on him. "

"I cannot make out what Hannah is always muttering, " Jasmine said toher sisters. "Who is it I am so remarkably like. To judge from the wayHannah frowns and shakes her head, and then smiles, the fact of thisaccidental likeness seems to have a very disturbing effect upon her. "

"I know whom you are like, Jasmine, " said little Daisy. "I've seen itfor a long time. You are the very image of my dear Prince. You havegot just the same colored eyes, and just the same curly hair, andboth your foreheads are broad and white. It's perfectly natural, "continued Daisy, "for you are both geniuses, and all geniuses musthave a look of each other. "

Hannah had old-fashioned ideas on many subjects. One of these was thatpeople could not remain too long in mourning. She liked very deepblack, and wished those who had lost relations to wear it for a long, long time. The girls, therefore, were quite amazed when she suggestedthat they should all go to Mrs. Ellsworthy in white. They began toconsider her quite an altered Hannah; but Jasmine took her advice, andbought many yards of soft flowing muslin, which the old servant helpedher dear young ladies to make up. 

At last the day and hour arrived when, as Primrose said sorrowfully, "Our fate is to be sealed and we are to bid 'Good-bye' to dearindependence. "

The girls, looking as sweet as girls could look, arrived at Mrs. Ellsworthy's at a fairly early hour in the afternoon. The good littlelady received them with marked tenderness, but said, in an almostconfused manner, and by no means with her usual self-possession that aslight change had been found necessary in the afternoon's programme, and that the meeting of friends and acquaintances to hear their futureplans was not to take place at her house after all. 

"We are to go to another house not far from this, " she said, "indeed, only a stone's throw away. It is so close that we will walk it. Come, Daisy, I see a number of questions in your eyes, but they shall all beanswered presently. Take my hand now, and let us lead the way. Theother house is very pretty, but it is smaller than mine. "

The other house was quite close to Mrs. Ellsworthy's luxuriousmansion. It was built more in the cottage shape, was much smaller, andhad a charming little garden and grounds round it. The hall dooropened into a porch, which was covered with roses, so that though thehouse was really in London, the effect was quite that of the country. Standing in the porch, and looking extremely pretty in its flickeringlight and shade, stood Poppy Jenkins, in the neatest of handmaiden'sattire, and as the girls all came into the shade of the cool porch, Noel himself, looking somewhat pale, and with a curious agitation inhis manner, came out to meet them. 

"This is my house, " he said, "and Poppy is engaged as one of theservants. I thought we might all meet here to discuss the new plans. Poppy, will you take the young ladies to their room? I've had a roomprepared, " he continued, blushing slightly, "for I thought Daisy mightlike to rest a little. "

Poppy instantly tripped forward, and in quite a demure manner tookthe girls up some broad stairs, and into a long, rather low-ceilingedroom on the first floor. There were three little white beds in theroom, and three toilet tables, and, in short, three sets ofeverything. It was the prettiest, the brightest, the most lovely roomthe girls had ever seen. It contained luxury, and neatness, andcomfort, and refinement, for beautiful pictures were placed on thewalls, and flowers peeped in at the windows, and the furniture was ofthat sort which can best accommodate girls' pretty dresses andknick-knacks. 

"What a room!" said Jasmine. "Why, it's just like a girls' room! Anyone would suppose Mr. Noel had sisters. "

Daisy began to skip about, and to poke her little fingers amongst thecuriosities and treasures which were scattered broadcast. Primrosebecame silent, and walked over to one of the windows, and Poppy, suddenly dropping her demure air, said in a voice of ecstasy--

"He's a lovely young man, and I'm engaged here permanent, and it's nomore Sarah Ann, nor Sarah Jane, but Poppy I'm to be from this time andfor ever. Oh, Miss Primrose, don't it make you real happy even to takeoff your bonnet in a room like this?"

"I do feel happy, " said Primrose, in that slow voice of hers. "I feelhappy, and I can't tell why. I am just going to give up myindependence, and I ought to be miserable, but at the present moment Ihave a peculiar sense of rejoicing. "

"And so have I, " said Jasmine, "I could skip all day long; and as toEyebright, she looks fit to dance this very moment. "

"I'm happy because I'm with the Prince, " said Daisy; "that's alwaysquite enough for me. "

Then the three sisters linked their arms round one another, and wentdownstairs. 

In Noel's very lovely drawing-room many friends were assembled. Mr. And Mrs. Ellsworthy, of course, were present; also Mr. Danesfield, Miss Martineau, and Miss Egerton. Old Hannah stood in the backgroundand when the three pretty sisters came into the room they weresurrounded by eager and loving faces, and were most warmly welcomed. Mrs. Ellsworthy, it is true, still appeared much agitated; she had anintense longing to take Jasmine in her arms and cry over her, but shehad, of course, too much sense to do anything so unsuitable and silly. The girls were asked to sit down, and Mr. Ellsworthy, who had beenelected spokesman, stood up, cleared his throat, and looked at hiswife. Twice he made an attempt at utterance; finally he said in avoice which trembled--"My dear, I can't manage it--you had better doit yourself. "

"I presume you are addressing me, Joseph, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I--I--this is unexpected; but anything to get it over. My dear girls, you have come here to-day to hear what we have arranged for you. Wefelt you could not go on as you have been doing. "

"Impossible, " here interrupted Mr. Danesfield. "They were the victimsof thieves and rogues. The thing could not have gone on a day longer. "

"So we made plans--very nice plans, " continued Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Itnever occurred to us that they would be knocked on the head, crushed, obliterated. Oh, I am very happy, of course, but I could cry at havingmy plans spoiled a second time. "

"I don't think they are really spoiled, " said Primrose who had grownvery white, and now rose to her feet. "I know I was proud aboutaccepting help. I had such a longing to be independent. Perhaps I feelsore about accepting help still, but I have made up my mind; for allour sakes it is best. I submit--I give in--I am very grateful. "

"Perhaps, Primrose, " said Mrs. Ellsworthy, whose bright eyes were nowfull of tears, "I may convince you yet that you have no cause to feelsore, and that proud heart of yours will not be pained. I believe thehelp you need is coming to you three sisters in such a guise that youcannot fail but to accept it gladly, and as your natural right. "

"It cannot quite be our natural right, " said Primrose. "There are nopossible circumstances under which it can be quite natural for girlsto take money help from even the kindest friends who are not relatedto them. "

"In this case there may even possibly be a relationship, " proceededMrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose, suppose that little brother who was lostlong ago--little Arthur your mother called him--suppose he came hereto-day, and said, 'I am grown up, and rich--I am the right person tohelp my sisters, ' you would feel no soreness of heart at acceptinghelp from your own brother, Primrose?"

"My own brother, " repeated Primrose in a wistful and longing voice;"it is cruel to remind me of my brother. He was lost many, many yearsago; he has probably long been dead. "

"I should be the happiest girl in all the world if I could find mybrother, " here interrupted Jasmine; "I often dream of him at night; hemust have been a darling little boy. "

"But if he were to come here twenty times, " said Daisy, "I could neverlove him better than I love the Prince. "

There was quite a little buzz of admiration through the room whenDaisy made this innocent little speech, and all eyes were turned onArthur Noel. Then there was a pause. Mr. Ellsworthy was again heardto clear his throat, and no one seemed quite to know what to do next. Suddenly Hannah Martin broke the spell--

"Goodness gracious me!" she said, "how long are the darling youngladies to be kept in suspense? Miss Primrose, why, you have got abrother, and there he stands. Mr. Arthur, come and kiss your sisters, my dear. Oh, my darling, darling girls, it's perfectly, perfectlytrue; he's the boy your mother broke her heart about long ago. "

The confusion and agitation which followed can scarcely bedescribed--the joy of the sisters can scarcely be painted. Daisy tookthis wonderful and important discovery more coolly and calmly than theothers. 

"It doesn't make a bit of difference in my love to him, " she said, "for I always loved him as if he were my brother. "

"And now, Primrose, " said Arthur, "you are mistress of this house, andplease remember that visitors are coming here presently, and that youare to entertain them. "

"Are we always to live with you, Arthur?" asked Jasmine. "It seemsbetter than a dream. Oh, Arthur, " she continued, not waiting for herbrother's reply, "don't you remember how we made friends the veryfirst moment we met? we must have always known, deep down in ourhearts, that we were brother and sister. "

"And this is to be our new Palace Beautiful, " said Daisy, "and Poppyis to live here too. Oh, Primrose, do you not feel almost too happy?"

"I've given up my independence, " said Primrose, "and yet I never feltmore happy or more thankful. "

The party that evening was a success. The astonishment of the goodladies from Penelope Mansion when they heard the wonderful news passedall bounds. Mrs. Dredge sat plump down on a chair, placed her fathands on her lap, and fairly cried. 

"Oh, if only my poor dear husband had lived to see this beautifulday, " she said. "Young man, I have liked you from the first; you'rethe kind of young man whom my good husband would have rejoiced to bepapa to. "

Miss Slowcum sighed most deeply when she heard the news. "It's atouching romance, " she said, "quite worthy of the olden times. I couldimagine Mr. Noel--Mr. Mainwaring, I suppose we must call him now--asbelonging to the old knights of chivalry. Yes, I am a person ofdiscernment, and I long ago saw that the dear girls belonged to theupper ten. "

"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, " said Mrs. Mortlock. "Inthis case, ladies and gentlemen, I beg to reverse the familiar words, for amid all your joy I have lost my 'continual reader. ' She had herfaults--no, I'm not going to deny that being young she had herfaults--but she was ever good-natured, and she did her gossipchirrupy. "

Of course the girls' future was now assured, for Arthur was a veryrich man. Miss Egerton, at his earnest request, came to live withthem, and they are now known to possess one of the happiest andbrightest homes in London--in short, they live in a "PalaceBeautiful. "