“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.