by L. T. Meade
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.