Mr. Danesfield always forwarded the girls' allowance in such a way that Primrose could easily obtain it—he did not trouble her with cheques or bank notes, but sent a money-order, which she could cash at the nearest post-office.

The three went out gleefully that day, and obtained their much needed money—then Primrose bought a new pair of boots for Daisy, and allowed Jasmine to spend sixpence on scribbling paper. Having obtained this delightful possession, Jasmine determined to begin her great work of fiction without a moment's delay; she felt that she had listened quite long enough to Miss Egerton's gentle warnings—that she had been discouraged sufficiently, and that what she had really to do was to prove the stuff which was in her, and to take the world by storm. She hesitated a little as to whether her great work was to appear before the world in the form of a novel or a poem. She thought that to produce a second "Evangeline" would be a matter of but slight difficulty, but on the whole she was inclined to give the world her experience in the fiery and untrammelled words of prose.

"My theme burns within me," she said to herself. "I won't be kept back by metres or rhymes, or numbers of feet, or any of those tiresome rules which Miss Egerton tries to instil into me. Oh, I shall be happy over my work! I will forget that we are poor, and forget that we live in attics. I will work with Miss Egerton in the daytime, and I will help Primrose in her house-keeping, and take Daisy for a walk, but morning and evening I will get into my Palace Beautiful, and write away, and forget the sordid cares of life."

The little maid had really a certain amount of genius to guide her, and although all her ideas were crude and unpractised, she managed to be happy in the castle which she built, and her dark eyes grew bright once more, and her pretty face resumed its animated and contented expression.

Primrose, who worked very steadily at her china-painting, was much cheered at this time with one or two small, but bona-fide orders for work. They came not through Mr. Jones, who pocketed her money and exhibited her wares in a dusty and uncertain fashion, but through Miss Egerton, who was proving herself a real friend to the girls. Primrose was immensely cheered by these little orders, and, in consequence, Christmas Day—the girls' first Christmas Day without a home and a mother—passed not uncheerfully. Things might have gone well with the three but for an incident which occurred just at the beginning of the New Year.

One morning Daisy awoke shivering, and complaining of fresh cold. She refused, however, to stay at home by herself, and begged of Jasmine to wrap her up, and take her across to Miss Egerton's, but when the two girls reached the kind mistress's door they were informed that she had been suddenly sent for to the country, and would not be back until the following day.

"You must go back now, my pet," said Jasmine. "I'll take you back myself, and I'll build up such a nice fire for you, and you shall look at the dear old scrap-book which we made when we were all happy at Rosebury."

"I wish we were back at Rosebury," said little Daisy, in a very sad and plaintive voice. "I don't think London is at all a cheerful place. We made a great mistake about it, didn't we, Jasmine? Oh, Jasmine, darling, you are not going to leave me by myself, for I really don't feel well this morning."

"I'll come back ever so quickly, Eyebright, but I really think I must do Primrose's shopping for her, now that I am not going to Miss Egerton. Primrose is working very hard at her china-painting order, and it is not fair she should be interrupted. You won't be selfish, will you, Eyebright? You know we arranged long ago that the way you were to help matters forward was not to hinder us older girls in our work."

"I know," answered Daisy, with a patient sigh. "I won't be selfish, Jasmine. Just kiss me before you go."

Jasmine went away, and Daisy, taking the Pink into her arms, sat down close to the fire. She was not exactly nervous, but she scarcely liked to be left in the attics by herself. She wished Mrs. Dove would come up, or even that Tommy Dove, who was a rude boy, and whom, as a rule, she particularly disliked, would pay her a visit. Any company, however she reflected, would be better than none, for she was feeling heavy and depressed with her cold. The warm feel of the Pink's furry little body, elapsed tightly in her arms, comforted her not a little. She remembered with some satisfaction that Jasmine had locked the door, and she began already to count the moments for her sister's return.

An hour passed, and still Daisy listened for Jasmine's light and springing step on the attic stairs.

She was very tired now, and her head ached. She thought she would go into the bedroom and, lying down on her little white bed, sleep away the weary moments. Taking the Pink with her, she did so, wrapping the counterpane well up over them both.

In a very few moments the child was in a heavy slumber.

She awoke, after what seemed to herself a very short nap, to hear sounds in the bedroom. She stirred sleepily, and, opening her eyes, said—

"Oh, Jasmine, what a time you've been away!"

No answer from Jasmine, but a smothered exclamation from some one else; a heavy tread on the uncarpeted boards, and Dove, his face red, his shoes off, and something which looked like a screw-driver in his hands, came up and bent over the child.

"Oh! what are you doing here, Mr. Dove?" exclaimed little Daisy. The man bent down over her, and stared hard into her wide open blue eyes.

THE MAN BENT DOWN OVER HER.

THE MAN BENT DOWN OVER HER. Palace B.

"I didn't kno............