The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls by L. T. Meade (short novels in english TXT) 📗

all that sort of thing when we have found the gentleman whom the dear child is pining to see. If Mr. Noel is still at Rosebury you had better put on your hat, Miss Primrose, and walk across the fields to the village, and bring him back with you. I'll stay with Miss Daisy and soothe her the best way I can. She's dreadful agitated and very weak and trembling ever since you came in, miss."

Primrose said she would go back to Rosebury directly, and she was so fortunate as to meet Noel as he was starting for London.

"You must come with me," she said earnestly. "I fear our dear little Daisy is even worse than Hannah represented her to be. She has absolutely refused to see me, and talks only about you and Mrs. Ellsworthy. I don't know what she can want with either of you, but it is quite evident that she thinks you can help her and save her from some great trouble. Poppy said she wanted Mrs. Ellsworthy to give her money; I suppose to replace what she lost of mine. Well, Mrs. Ellsworthy is not here; so can you come to see her to-night?"

"I will come at once, Miss Mainwaring," answered Noel. "If we walk down this street we shall pass the post-office, and I can send a telegram to Mrs. Ellsworthy and also to my servant, Lawson. I must try and get into town some time to-morrow, however, for I have got to attend the trial of no less a person than your old landlord, Dove. He was apprehended for stealing a bank-note and a ring from my mantle-piece."

"I never liked that man," said Primrose; "indeed, I never thought either of the Doves quite honest. Mrs. Dove made a rule of keeping back a little of the money she borrowed from me on all occasions."

Then Primrose and Noel walked as quickly as they could down the village street. Noel despatched his necessary telegram, and in a short time they both found themselves in Hannah's humble cottage.

"She is asleep," said Hannah, as she came out to meet them. "She is moaning in her sleep, and she gives sighs enough to break your heart. You had better, both of you, stay in my little sitting-room until she awakes."

"If you will allow me," said Noel, "I will go and sit beside her bed; she is accustomed to me. I will promise to be very careful in my dealings with her. I believe I can talk to her without startling her in the least."

Hannah looked dubious, but Primrose interposed in her gentle voice—

"Yes, Hannah, Mr. Noel will not startle Daisy; he has always had a most happy influence over her."

Poor little Daisy! the sight of her wan face, the anxious expression which seemed indelibly stamped on her childish brow, gave Noel so strong a sense of pain and indignation that he sincerely longed to secure for Dove as severe a punishment as the law would give. He sat down gently by the humble little bed, and when the child moaned and tossed in her sleep he laid his cool hand on her forehead. That hand had a magnetic effect—even in her sleep Daisy seemed to know it. She murmured, "The Prince, has he come?" and a moment after she opened her dark blue eyes and fixed them on Noel, while a very faint smile flitted across her little face.

"You have come at last, Mr. Prince. I am very, very glad; I have wanted you," she said.

"I have wanted you, Daisy; I have been looking for you everywhere. I have been in great trouble about you," answered Noel, in his gentlest tones.

"Have you?" said little Daisy; "I am sorry you have been in trouble. Do you know that Primrose came to-day and I could not see her? I can see you, but not Primrose. Please let me hold your hand. I don't feel so dreadfully weak when I hold your hand. Will you stoop down, and let me talk to you. I can't talk at all loud, for I'm dreadfully weak. Do you know, Mr. Prince, that I'm going to die?"

"No, Daisy, I don't think you are," answered Noel. I am the Prince who delivers little girls from ogres. I never heard of a little girl dying after she was delivered from the ogre."

"Wicked little girls are not delivered," answered Daisy. "I was so dreadfully cowardly. I was afraid of a dark dungeon, and so—and so—but I mustn't tell you. I did lose Primrose's money, and I was a coward, but I haven't been so bad yet as to tell a lie. You mustn't ask me to tell you what it all means, Mr. Prince, for I can't. I hope very much you'll forgive me for being a cowardly little girl; God has, long ago, for I asked Him, and I am not really afraid to die. I shouldn't feel a bit afraid or unhappy about it if I thought Primrose and Jasmine could have their money."

Here Daisy's voice quite failed her, and she looked so dreadfully white and weak that Noel began to fear there was some truth in her poor little words. He saw that their interview must not be prolonged, and that he must give the child relief as soon as possible.

"Daisy, you have got to listen to me," he said. "You need say very little yourself, but you can listen to my words. I know why you want to see Mrs. Ellsworthy—yes, dear, you can hold my hand as tightly as possible. No, don't tremble; you want Mrs. Ellsworthy to give you some money. She is not here; I know she would help you, and feel sorry for you, but there are others who do that. Daisy, suppose I give you back your money instead of Mrs. Ellsworthy? Give me your little hand, dear, and let me put the money into it. Here; it makes quite a small parcel—a ten-pound note, a five-pound note, two sovereigns and a half. Now, Daisy, shall we keep this as a little secret between ourselves? Primrose will ask no questions if you beg of her not, and when you have put that money into her hand will you not be able to have her with you again?"

Daisy's little hot hand closed tightly over the money. She did not speak, or even attempt to thank Noel, but her eyes, wider and wider open each moment, were fixed intently on his face.

"That is settled, then, Daisy," continued Noel, "and we need not think of Mrs. Ellsworthy just at present, for you do not now need her services. Of course a Prince is the right person to deliver a little girl from a dreadful ogre. I don't see that Mrs. Ellsworthy should have anything to do with it. Now, my dear, I'm going to say one or two other things to you—you need not feel the least frightened."

"May I really keep the money?" whispered Daisy at last.

"Of course, I said so. We will not say any more on this subject at present. I have given you the money to-night, because I want you to have Primrose sitting by your side and nursing you and comforting you. When Primrose is with you again you will cease to think those gloomy thoughts about dying. Now I have something else to add before I leave you."

Noel had now taken a very firm hold of Daisy's little hand. She had been trembling a good deal, but she had certainly grown calmer. Perhaps the knowledge that she really did possess some money to give to Primrose was comforting her. Noel felt a sense of distress at disturbing even for her eventual good the child's present calm. It must be done, however, and he thought a moment how he could most gently deal with her.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Daisy," he said—"a very sad story, and, alas, a true one. There lives a little girl, I will not tell her name, although I know it, who has been unfortunate enough to get into the power of a very bad man. The man is very, very bad, but I will not mention his name here, although I know it also. The man came to the little girl and talked to her, and no doubt he threatened her, and at last he made her promise him something—what, I cannot say. From the moment this little girl made this promise she became thin and white, and anxious and unhappy. She struggled against the terrible promise which seemed to bind her with fetters of iron, but she could never get away from it, and the man appeared like a terrible ogre to her, and she longed for a Prince to come and deliver her from him. The wicked man having terrified this poor little girl, did his best to use his influence over her to his own ends. At one time she lived in the house with him, but although she struggled against it her friends induced her to go elsewhere. Even in the new palace, however, she was not safe from the terrible ogre; he followed her, and, it is to be feared, although nothing is absolutely known, that he used cruel threats to induce her to give him some money which was not hers to give. The poor little weak girl was afraid to consult any one on account of her promise. It was quite natural she should think it right to keep her promise, although it was very sad. She was so completely under the power of the wicked man, or the ogre, as we will call him, that she gave him her sister's money—the money that was to support them all for some months, and then in her great despair she ran away." Here Noel paused—Daisy's eyes were fixed on him. Her face was white as death.

"You see, dear, it is a painful story," he said, "but it is not quite finished yet. The poor little girl ran away, but she never knew what was happening to the ogre. That wicked man was not allowed to continue his evil ways without punishment. At the present moment he is locked up safely in prison, where he can hurt no one. He was put there because he stole a five-pound note and a ring from the gentleman whom the little girl used to call the Prince. It is believed, though of course nothing is certainly known, nor will be until the little girl is taken out of the thraldom of the ogre and confesses what has happened, that this wicked man has also stolen a good deal of money from an envelope which the elder sister used to consider her 'Emergency Fund' envelope. In short, it is thought that his one object in frightening the poor little girl was simply to rob her and her sisters. Now that he is in prison, however, and quite out of the way of harming any one, it is greatly hoped by those who love her that the poor little one, who was made to suffer so cruelly, will be released from the thraldom of the wicked ogre, and be made to see that there are times and circumstances during which even the most truthful little girl would do better to break her word than to keep it. Now, Daisy, that is the end of my story; I've got nothing more to say about it, for at present I know nothing more. Good-night, dear—I will send Primrose to you. I will come to you when you want me again."

CHAPTER XLVI. DELIVERED FROM THE OGRE.

"Here's the money, Primrose—here's all the money," said little Daisy, in a weak, weak voice, when her sister came up to her bedside, and bent over her. "It was lost and the Prince brought it back; you won't ask me any questions about it, will you, Primrose?"

"No," exclaimed Primrose, in her very quiet and matter-of-fact voice—the kind of voice which was most soothing to the excitable and nervous child at the present moment.

"I'm glad to have it back, Daisy, dear, for I have missed it; but of course, I shan't ask you any questions about it. I shall just put it into my purse, and you shall see what a nice fat purse I have got once more."

Then Primrose held her little sister's hand, and shook up her pillows, and tended her as only she knew how, but all that night Daisy grew more and more restless. The drowsy state in which she had hitherto been had changed to one of wakefulness. All through the long night the little creature's bright eyes remained open, and her anxious face had a question on it which yet she never spoke. At last, as the bright summer's morning broke, she turned to Primrose and said eagerly—

"Kneel down, Primrose, and ask