"Oh yes, Mr. Dove."
"That's right, missy. Now you say these words after me:—'Mr. Dove, I promise never to tell as you came up to my room to give me the nice sweeties. I'll never tell nobody in all the wide world, so help me, God.'"
"Oh, I don't like that last part," said little Daisy. "I'll say it—I'll say all the words, only not the last ones, and I'll keep my promise as true as true; only please, please, please, Mr. Dove, don't ask me to say the last words, for I don't think it's quite reverent to say them just to keep a secret about sweeties."
"Well, missy, as you please. Now put your hands in mine, and say all the other words."
Daisy did so.
"That's right, miss; now my mind's easy. I have got your promise, miss, and I'll keep the little birds a-watching to find out if ever you go near to breathing it. There's a dark cellar, too, most handy for them children who turn out to be Dove's enemies, and you know where the people who tell lies go to. Now, good-bye, miss—eat up your sweeties."
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DELIGHTFUL PLAN.
Neither Primrose nor Jasmine could quite understand their little sister that night—her cold was worse, but that fact Primrose accounted for by Jasmine's imprudence in taking her out; but what neither she nor Jasmine could understand was Daisy's great nervousness—her shrinking fear of being left for a moment by herself, and the worried and anxious look which had settled down on her usually quiet little face. Primrose determined to do what she had never done yet since they had come to London—she would commit the unheard-of extravagance of calling in a doctor.