When Daisy reached Miss Egerton's and found herself seated in that lady's cosy little drawing-room, with sponge-cakes ad libitum to eat, and Noel sitting by and willing to give up all his time to her benefit, she cheered up wonderfully; a faint color came to her white little cheeks, and Miss Egerton, as she passed the open drawing-room door, heard one or two silvery peals of laughter coming from her lips.
"Bless the child!" thought the kind woman; "how much better she is when she is out of that house. What nice influence that good fellow, Arthur, has over her. I do trust the silly little one will soon give up her fancies—for they surely can be nothing but fancies—and come to live with me."
But when the twilight fell Daisy ceased to laugh, the anxious and troubled look returned to her face, and after a time she said to Arthur, in her pretty coaxing way—
"Take me home now, please, Mr. Prince."
Two days afterwards Noel called at the girls' lodgings Daisy alone was in, but to all his entreaties she now turned a deaf ear. No, she did not want to go out; she would rather stay in her own dear, nice old attics; she was never so happy anywhere as in her own attics. She was very fond of Miss Egerton, but she did not think she would like to live with her. Miss Egerton kept a bird, and Daisy had a great dislike to birds.
"Please, Mr. Prince," she said, in conclusion, "stay with me here for an hour or two, and tell me a beautiful story."
Noel was rather clever at making up impromptu stories, and he now proceeded to relate a tale with a moral.
"There was a kind lady who had prepared lovely guest-chambers—beautiful they were, and worthy of a palace."
Here Noel stopped, and looked hard at his little listener.
"Do you know why they were so lovely, little maid?"