by L. T. Meade
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.
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.