He sat
down gently by the humble little bed, and when the child moaned and
tossed in her sleep he laid his cool hand on her forehead. That hand
had a magnetic effect--even in her sleep Daisy seemed to know it. She
murmured, "The Prince, has he come?" and a moment after she opened her
dark blue eyes and fixed them on Noel, while a very faint smile
flitted across her little face.
"You have come at last, Mr. Prince. I am very, very glad; I have
wanted you," she said.
"I have wanted you, Daisy; I have been looking for you everywhere. I
have been in great trouble about you," answered Noel, in his gentlest
tones.
"Have you?" said little Daisy; "I am sorry you have been in trouble.
Do you know that Primrose came to-day and I could not see her? I can
see you, but not Primrose. Please let me hold your hand. I don't feel
so dreadfully weak when I hold your hand. Will you stoop down, and let
me talk to you. I can't talk at all loud, for I'm dreadfully weak. Do
you know, Mr. Prince, that I'm going to die?"
"No, Daisy, I don't think you are," answered Noel. I am the Prince who
delivers little girls from ogres. I never heard of a little girl dying
after she was delivered from the ogre.
Pages:
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355