are no ogres. Daisy love--there never were
such creatures. You need not make yourself unhappy about beings that
never existed. The fact is, Daisy, you are too much alone, and your
little 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 glad
you 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 am
awfully afraid of him."

Then Daisy laughed quite strangely, and said, in a wistful little
voice--

"Of course, Primrose, this is only fairy-talk. I always was fond of
fairies, wasn't I? Primrose, darling, I want you to do a little thing
for 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 your
letter from Mr. Danesfield on the table."

"Has it come?" said Primrose; "I am glad. I expected it yesterday
morning."

"It's on the table," repeated Daisy. "Will you open it, Primrose? I'd
like to see what's inside."

"Oh, there'll be nothing very pretty inside, darling; it is probably a
postal 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 a
postal order, it's a cheque. I must write my name on the back, and
take it to the Metropolitan Bank to cash to-morrow."

"Let me see you writing your name on the back, please, Primrose," said
Daisy, in a queer, constrained little voice.

Primrose smiled to herself at the child's caprice but, taking up a
pen, she put her signature across the back of the cheque.

"May I take it in my hand, Primrose?" said Daisy. "Oh, thank you! My
hand shakes, doesn't it? but that's because I'm so dreadfully subject
to starts. Isn't it funny, Primrose, to think that this little paper
should mean a lot of golden sovereigns? Doesn't it make you feel rich
to have it, Primrose?"

"It makes me feel that with it and the help of my weekly salary we
shall 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 cheque
back into the envelope, and may I sleep with it under my pillow? I'll
stay so quiet and still,