The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls

by L. T. Meade

  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 L17 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-tab
le. 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.