I must ask Mr.
Noel not to talk to you in so fanciful a manner."
"Oh don't, Primrose, for it is my one and only comfort. Oh! I am glad
you think I ought to keep out of the ogre's power. He is a dreadful,
dreadful ogre, and he has tried to get into the Palace, and I am
awfully afraid of him."
Then Daisy laughed quite strangely, and said, in a wistful little
voice--
"Of course, Primrose, this is only fairy-talk. I always was fond of
fairies, wasn't I? Primrose, darling, I want you to do a little thing
for me, will you?"
"Of course, Daisy. Why, how you are trembling, dear!"
"Hold my hand," said Daisy, "and let me put my head on your shoulder.
Now I'll ask you about the little thing, Primrose; there's your
letter from Mr. Danesfield on the table."
"Has it come?" said Primrose; "I am glad. I expected it yesterday
morning."
"It's on the table," repeated Daisy. "Will you open it, Primrose? I'd
like to see what's inside."
"Oh, there'll be nothing very pretty inside, darling; it is probably a
postal order for our quarter's money."
"Yes, but let me see it, Primrose."
Primrose moved slowly to the table, took up the letter, and opened it.
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