The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls

  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 L17 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 L17 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."