The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls

by L. T. Meade

"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.

"Of course, I said so. We will not say any more on this subject at present. I have given you the money to-night, because I want you to have Primrose sitting by your side and nursing you and comforting you. When Primrose is with you again you will cease to think those gloomy thoughts about dying. Now I have something else to add before I leave you."

Noel had now taken a very firm hold of Daisy's little hand. She had been trembling a good deal, but she had certainly grown calmer. Perhaps the knowledge that she really did possess some money to give to Primrose was comforting her. Noel felt a sense of distress at disturbing even for her eventual good the child's present calm. It must be done, however, and he thought a moment how he could most gently deal with her.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Daisy," he said—"a very sad story, and, alas, a true one. There lives a little girl, I will not tell her name, although I know it, who has been unfortunate enough to get into the power of a very bad man. The man is very, very bad, but I will not mention his name here, although I know it also. The man came to the little girl and talked to her, and no doubt he threatened her, and at last he made her promise him something—what, I cannot say. From the moment this little girl made this promise she became thin and white, and anxious and unhappy. She struggled against the terrible promise which seemed to bind her with fetters of iron, but she could never get away from it, and the man appeared like a terrible ogre to her, and she longed for a Prince to come and deliver her from him. The wicked man having terrified this poor little girl, did his best to use his influence over her to his own ends. At one time she lived in the house with him, but although she struggled against it her friends induced her to go elsewhere. Even in the new palace, however, she was not safe from the terrible ogre; he followed her, and, it is to be feared, although nothing is absolutely known, that he used cruel threats to induce her to give him some money which was not hers to give. The poor little weak girl was afraid to consult any one on account of her promise. It was quite natural she should think it right to keep her promise, although it was very sad. She was so completely under the power of the wicked man, or the ogre, as we will call him, that she gave him her sister's money—the money that was to support them all for some months, and then in her great despair she ran away." Here Noel paused—Daisy's eyes were fixed on him. Her face was white as death.

"You see, dear, it is a painful story," he said, "but it is not quite finished yet. The poor little girl ran away, but she never knew what was happening to the ogre. That wicked man was not allowed to continue his evil ways without punishment. At the present moment he is locked up safely in prison, where he can hurt no one. He was put there because he stole a five-pound note and a ring from the gentleman whom the little girl used to call the Prince. It is believed, though of course nothing is certainly known, nor will be until the little girl is taken out of the thraldom of the ogre and confesses what has happened, that this wicked man has also stolen a good deal of money from an envelope which the elder sister used to consider her 'Emergency Fund' envelope. In short, it is thought that his one object in frightening the poor little girl was simply to rob her and her sisters. Now that he is in prison, however, and quite out of the way of harming any one, it is greatly hoped by those who love her that the poor little one, who was made to suffer so cruelly, will be released from the thraldom of the wicked ogre, and be made to see that there are times and circumstances during which even the most truthful little girl would do better to break her word than to keep it. Now, Daisy, that is the end of my story; I've got nothing more to say about it, for at present I know nothing more. Good-night, dear—I will send Primrose to you. I will come to you when you want me again."