But here the bitterest of her disappointments awaited her, for the
woman who attended to the gates said, in a cold and unsympathizing
voice, that the family were now in London, and there was no use
whatever in little miss troubling herself to go up to the house. No
use at all, the woman repeated, for she could not tell when the family
would return, probably not for several weeks. Daisy did not ask any
more questions, but turned away from the inhospitable gates with a
queer sinking in her heart, and a great dizziness before her eyes. She
had come all this weary, weary way for nothing. She had taken dear
Poppy's last money for nothing. Oh, now there was no doubt at all that
God was very angry with her, and that she had been both wicked and
selfish. She had still twopence in her pocket--for the good-natured
omnibus conductor had paid her fare himself. She would go to the
nearest cottage and ask for some milk for the Pink, and then she
wondered--poor, little, lonely, unhappy child--how long it would take
her to die.
CHAPTER XLI.
MRS. DREDGE TO THE RESCUE.
High tea at Penelope Mansion was an institution. Mrs. Flint said in
confidence to her boarders that she preferred high tea to late dinner.
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