CHAPTER XXIV. WHITE FLOWERS AND FORGIVENESS FOREVERMORE.
Maureen lay down in the Chamber of Peace and slept for long hours. It was very nearly noon on the following day when she awoke. She was quite refreshed, quite calm and very happy.
"Dear little Daisy," she murmured under her breath. Mrs. Faithful herself brought the girl a most carefully prepared breakfast.
"You ought to stay in bed, darling," she said. "You have gone through too much. Dominic and I both wish it."
"I stay in bed?" said Maureen, with one of her radiant smiles. "But I'm perfectly well, and I've got to attend to Henrietta now."
"Oh, my child, that poor, poor girl. Do you know, Maureen, that we have not dared to tell her."
"I am glad," said Maureen, after a pause. "I will tell her myself in my own way. Will you, dear Mrs. Faithful, ask Dom to collect heaps and heaps of white flowers—all the daisies and white wild flowers he can find and have them ready for me in a basket?"
"Yes, dearest, yes."
"I want to make her look beautiful before Henrietta sees her," continued Maureen. "Have you locked the door of that room?"
"Yes, dear; girls are not accustomed to the sight of death."