by L. T. Meade
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."