"Yes," said Daisy, "I am delighted; we need never walk down this street again, need we, Primrose? and we need never to have anything to say to the Doves, most particularly to Mr. Dove; not but that he's very kind, and he's—oh, yes! he's my friend; yes, of course he told me he was my friend, but we needn't ever see him again, ever, ever again, Primrose, darling?"
"Oh, Daisy! what a funny child you are! If Mr. Dove is your friend, why should you not wish to see him? He is not my friend, however; indeed, I may say frankly that I don't like him at all. Now drink up your beef-tea, darling."
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE POOR DOVES.
The next morning early Primrose opened her trunk, and unlocking a certain little morocco case, which contained her mother's letter about her lost brother, one or two trinkets which had belonged to that same mother, and Mr. Danesfield's envelope, she took the latter out of the case, and slipped it into her pocket. After breakfast she went round to see Miss Egerton.
"An old friend," she said, "in the village where we lived—I would rather not say his name—gave me this. I believe it contains money. I have a kind of idea that it contains three bank notes for £5 each. I have never opened it, and I never wish to. I meant to return it some day to this kind friend—yes, I know he meant to be very kind. This is what he has written on the outside of the envelope."
Miss Egerton read aloud—"When you want me, use me; don't return me, and never abuse me."
"There must be money here, my dear," she said.
"Yes, I know there is money," said Primrose, "for he wanted to press fifteen pounds on me when I went to say good-bye; but I was too proud to accept it, so now I think he has thought of this way of helping us. We could buy our furniture out of some of that money, Miss Egerton."