Primrose was so anxious to soothe Daisy that she allowed her without a moment's hesitation to have her way. The moment the child felt her hot little fingers clasping the letter with its precious enclosure she became quiet, and ceased to speak. Primrose had undressed her, and placed her in bed, and she now turned her back on her sister, and still clasping the letter tightly, closed her eyes. Primrose hoped she was asleep, and went softly out of the room to talk over matters with Jasmine and Miss Egerton. Miss Egerton could throw no light on the subject of Daisy's queer attack, and when Primrose at last went to bed she had to own that her anxieties with regard to her little sister had returned.

The next morning she was obliged to leave earlier than usual, and rather to Daisy's astonishment, and very much to her relief, said nothing about Mr. Danesfield's letter. Primrose had not forgotten the letter, but she knew she would not be able to go to the bank that day, and she thought it would comfort Daisy to take care of it.

"Jasmine," she said to her second sister, "must you go out this morning? I think it is hardly well to leave Daisy alone."

Jasmine's face clouded over.

"Have you forgotten, Primrose, that Miss Egerton and Mr. Noel were to take me to South Kensington Museum to-day? They arranged that I should go with them quite a week ago, and it would never do to put them off again now. I'll tell you what I'll do, Primrose; I'll take Daisy too; I'll see that she is not over tired, and Mr. Noel will take great care of her; they are very fond of each other."

"Try to arrange it so, then, Jasmine," said Primrose; "for I do not feel happy about her being left."

Primrose went away to spend her day as usual with Mrs. Mortlock, and sat down to her "continual reading" with a heavy heart.

Mrs. Mortlock was losing her sight rapidly—cataract was forming on her eyes, and she could now only dimly see the face and form of her young companion. Primrose, however, always managed to soothe the somewhat irascible old lady, and was already a prime favorite with her.

To-day she took up the newspaper with a heavy heart, and the anxiety which oppressed her made itself felt in a certain weary tone which came into her voice.

Mrs. Mortlock was fond of Primrose, but was never slow in expressing an opinion.

"Crisp up, Miss Mainwaring," she said; "crisp up a little; drawling voices give me the fidgets most terribly. Now, my dear, try to fancy yourself in the House of Commons; read that speech more animated, my love. Ah, that's better!"

Primrose exerted herself, and for a few minutes the reading came up to its usual standard, but then, again, thoughts of Daisy oppressed the young reader, and once more her voice flagged.

"There, my dear, you had better turn to the bits of gossip; they are more in your line, I can see, this morning. Dear, dear, dear! I can't tell what's come to girls these days; they don't seem to find no heart nor pleasure in anything. Now, if there is a girl who, in my opinion, has fallen on her feet, it's you, Miss Mainwaring; for, surely, the handsome salary I allow is earned with next to no trouble. When once a girl can read she can read continual, and that's all I ask of you."

"I'm sorry," said Primrose; "some things at home are troubling me, and I cannot help thinking about them. I shall do better over the gossip."

"That's right, my love! I'd ask you about the home troubles, but my nerves won't stand no worriting. Get on with the gossip, dear, and make your voice chirrupy and perky, as though you saw the spice of it all, and enjoyed it—do."

Just at this moment, while poor Primrose was trying to train her unwilling voice, the door was opened, and Poppy, red in the face, and with her best hat and jacket on, came in.

"Miss Primrose, I'm come to say good-bye, I am. No, Mrs. Mortlock, when about to quit I don't fear you no longer—not all the Sarahs in Europe would have power over me now. I'm going. Aunt Flint and me we has quarrelled, and I has given her fair warning, and I'm going back to my native place, maybe this evening. Never no more will this city of wanities see me. I'm off, Miss Primrose; I leaves Penelope Mansion now, and I go straight away to your place to bid Miss Jasmine and Miss Daisy good-bye."

"For goodness sake, Sarah Matilda Ann!" here interrupted Mrs. Mortlock, speaking with great excitement, "before you go see you bring me up my beef-tea—Mrs. Flint won't give it a thought, and my nerves won't keep up without the nourishment. Run down to the kitchen this minute, Sarah Mary, and bring me up the beef-tea, and a nice little delicate slice of toast, done to a turn, to eat with it. Mind you, don't let the toast get burnt, for if I can't see I can taste, and well know when my toast is burnt."

Poppy was about to give a saucy answer, but a look from Primrose restrained her, and before she left Penelope Mansion she had provided the old lady with her luncheon. Primrose said a few words of farewell and regret, and then Poppy set out, determined to take her chance of finding Jasmine and Daisy at home.

"I'll go back to my own place to-night," she said to herself, "and tell my mother that wanity of wanities is London—my fifteen shillings will just buy me a single third, and I needn't eat nothing until to-morrow morning."

When Poppy arrived at Miss Egerton's she was told by Bridget that Miss Jasmine was out, but that she would find Miss Daisy by herself upstairs. Poppy ran nimbly up the stairs, and knocked at the sitting-room door; there was no answer, and turning the handle, she went in. Daisy was lying with her face downwards on the sofa—sobs and quivers shook her little frame, and for a time she did not even hear Poppy, who bent over her in some alarm.

"Now, Miss Daisy, darling, I'm real glad I has come in—why, what is the matter, missie?"

"Nothing, Poppy; nothing indeed," said Daisy, "except that I'm most dreadfully unhappy. If I was a really quite unselfish little girl I'd go and live in a dungeon, but I couldn't do it—I couldn't, really."

Whatever Poppy was, she was practical—she wasted no time trying to find out what Daisy meant, but bringing some cold water, she bathed the child's face and hands, and then she made her take a drink of milk, and finally, she lifted her off the sofa, and sitting down in an arm-chair, took her in her arms, and laid her head on her breast.

"There now, pretty little dear, you're better, aren't you?"

"My body is better, thank you, Poppy—I like to fe............