"Speak for yourself, Dove," said the wife--"we are doing better with our present attics than we ever did with our late attics. Sir, you'll excuse me, but truthful I ever will be at all costs."

"Can you paint my windows or not?" said Noel, rising to his feet, and speaking with some asperity. "If you are too busy to undertake the work pray say so, and let me seek some one else, for my time is precious."

"Of course he'll do it, sir," said Mrs. Dove. "Say yes to the gentleman, Dove, and thank him, and have done with it."

"Well, sir, I am very busy," said Dove. "I haven't a moment to call my own for weeks to come, but all the same, I wouldn't disoblige the late attics for a good deal, so I'll just put off the Cooks, who are wild to get their house-cleaning through, and Mr. Martin, who keeps the bacon and 'am shop, must wait. Yes, sir, I wait your pleasure, sir--I can come."

"To-morrow morning, then, early," said Noel, "this is my address. Ask for my servant when you arrive, and he will show you what you are to do, and will also give you directions as to the colored paint I wish used. I must hurry off now, for I'm going down to the country on some very sad business. You will be sorry to hear, Mr. Dove, that Miss Daisy Mainwaring has lost a considerable sum of money, and the poor little child is in such trouble about it that she has run away. Of course, I don't believe for a moment that she has really lost the money--of course it was stolen from her. Well, good-bye, I'm going to seek her, and to try to catch the thief. Be sure you arrive at my house in good time in the morning, Dove."

"Yes, sir, very sorry to hear your bad news," said Dove, in a self-possessed voice, but Arthur saw that his color had changed, and he wanted no stronger clue to confirm his suspicions. When he got into the street he not only consulted his watch, but a time-table. A later train than he had intended to travel by would take it to Rosebury early in the morning. He would go by this train. Now he jumped into a hansom and drove to his chambers. His servant came to him, to whom he gave hasty directions.

"You're to buy the paint yourself, Lawson; see that it is properly mixed, and the right shade. Move the plants from the balcony early in the morning--the man will arrive in good time, and listen, Lawson, I don't want him to be too closely watched."

"What do you mean by that, sir?" said Lawson.

"Only that you need not stay in the room all the time--come in and out, of course--but don't imagine the man to be a thief until he is proved such."

"Well, sir, your commands must be obeyed, of course, but you have many articles of virtue and elegance about."

"Never mind that, Lawson--do as I tell you."

When his servant left the room Noel took a five-pound note out of his pocket, and enclosing it in an open envelope laid it carelessly on the chimney-piece. There was no writing on the envelope, and the note might well have been slipped into it by mistake. Noel also slipped a ring of some value from his finger, and dropped it into a little tray, which contained odds and ends of different descriptions.

"Now I've laid my trap," he said to himself. "My poor little Daisy, I hope I may ensnare your ogre to his destruction."

The next morning early Dove, well pleased with his job, and never guessing that the smallest suspicions had attached themselves to him, arrived at Noel's rooms. He was a most idle man, and seldom cared for work, but he was pleased at Noel's singling him out, and imagined that notwithstanding her running away, he owed this visit to little Daisy.

"She's a pert little thing," he said to himself, "and if she's so true to me as all this, why I suppose I must leave her alone in the future.

I made a nice little haul out of her the other day, and I've got several of them sovereigns about me still; but lor, wasn't she in a piteous fright when I took that cheque away with me!"

Dove was highly pleased with the appearance of Noel's rooms. He could see no beauty in the simplicity of the girls' Palace Beautiful, but although he was quite incapable of judging of the value of the pictures and exquisite little statuettes which adorned the walls, he was judge enough of the depth and richness of the Turkey rugs, and of the wealth which must have been expended over the very select furniture of Noel's sitting-room.

Lawson, wondering much at his master's directions but supposing that Dove must be a very special _protege_, received him with much cordiality, gave him directions with regard to his work, and then left him alone. Dove painted and cleaned, and whistled as he worked; he felt quite cheerful and virtuous, and began to consider that the position of British workmen was not such a bad one after all. He felt more and more pleased with Daisy Mainwaring for having put him in the way of such agreeable and profitable occupation, and more and more resolved to leave her alone for the future.

"Maybe if I was to talk to the pretty little dear she'd find me a deal more jobs of this yere sort," he said to himself. "A little lady she is, and no mistake, and she keeps very genteel friends, as any one can see with half an eye."

After Dove had worked for two or three hours he began to feel thirsty, for he was quite unaccustomed to any continuous labor. The sun was shining brightly on the balcony, and he was also a little hot, and the inside of Noel's room looked deliciously cool and inviting. He had just seen Lawson walking down the street, too, so he was quite sure of having the premises to himself. Slipping off his shoes he stepped into the room and began to look about him with an appreciative air. He handled some of Noel's choicest books, and looked through a portfolio of rare engravings but neither books nor engravings were quite in Dove's way, and after a time he strolled over to the mantel-piece, as he said, to see how he looked reflected in the over-mantel gla.s.s.

There were letters there directed to Noel. Dove would have dearly liked to acquaint himself with their contents, but he was a slow and deficient reader. Some cigars lay in a little cigar-case at one end.

Dove, as a matter of course, and without weighing the question at all, slipped a couple into his pocket. After doing this he did not feel quite so virtuous, nor so like the proverbial British workman; he jingled some of Daisy's sovereigns in his pocket, and laughed when they made a pleasant sound. Still eagerly peering at all the articles on the mantel-piece his quick eyes presently detected amongst a heap of rubbish and odds and ends Noel's valuable signet-ring; it was of heavy workmanship, and its gold alone made it worth money.

"Why, Isaacs the Jew would give me two pound ten, or perhaps three pounds for this," queried Dove. "It has plainly been forgotten here, and if the gent does miss it he'll lay the blame on that fine fellow Lawson."

It took a very small parley with Dove's seared conscience to make him pocket the ring, and by the time Lawson returned to the house the five-pound note had also been appropriated. Dove whistled more cheerily than ever over his work that afternoon, and in the evening he went home quite unsuspecting any little trap which might have been set for him.

He had scarcely gone before a boy arrived with a telegram directed to Lawson, and with a reply pre-paid. Lawson read the following words:--

"Look on the mantel-piece in my sitting-room for a blank envelope, open, which contains a five-pound note--No. 11267. I also left my ring in the cigar tray. Wire reply if note and ring are safe.--ARTHUR NOEL."

The address to reply to was added.

Poor Lawson spent an agonized ten minutes in searching over the contents of the mantel-piece. In the end he had to fill in the reply telegram with the news that nowhere could the five-pound note nor the ring be found.

A little over two hours pa.s.sed, and again the worthy servant was startled by a telegraphic dispatch. This was what it contained:--

"Have reasons to believe that the painter Dove is the thief. Go instantly to the nearest police-station, give them the number of the note, and go with one of their staff to Dove's house. His address is, 10, Eden Street, Junction Road, Holloway. The note and ring will probably be found on his person. Get him apprehended if possible. Take all necessary cabs.--ARTHUR NOEL."

Thus it came to pa.s.s that when that evening Dove sat down tranquilly to a luxurious supper of lobster salad, chops, and bottled stout, he was unpleasantly interrupted. When two policemen, accompanied by Lawson, came into his room, he was guilty of using very violent language, and altogether conducted himself in a most excited manner; but, notwithstanding his resistance, and Mrs. Dove's hysterics, and some terribly distressing chuckles, really sounding more like laughter than tears, which were heard to issue from the lips of that naughty boy, Tommy, a strict search of his person was inst.i.tuted, and in consequence he was that very night locked up in jail.

Oh, if only poor little Daisy, tossing on her hot and feverish pillow, could have known!

CHAPTER XLV.

THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE.

Hannah was doing well in her little shop at Teckford. She had always been a most saving body, and although Mrs. Mainwaring had never been able to pay her high wages, she had managed to put the greater portion of what she received away. Hannah was one of those fortunate individuals on whom even a shabby dress will look neat. Her boots lasted twice as long as any one else's, her caps retained their starch and their whiteness long after another servant's would have had to be resigned to a fresh cleaning process. Hannah therefore required little or no money to spend on dress, and in consequence, when the Mainwaring girls went away, she had a little nest-egg laid by to stock a shop.

She found a suitable little house at Teckford, laid in her little store of provisions with care, for she argued wisely that however poor people were they required food, and was living very comfortably on the proceeds of her sales. Hannah, as a rule, had a smooth and unruffled brow; she was a careful woman, but not a troubled one. At the present moment, however it could scarcely be said of this good soul that she was without cares. The neighbors who came in to buy their bacon, and fresh eggs, and candles, and tea, remarked that Hannah had no longer a cheery word and a pleasant smile to give them, and the children, when they tumbled out their halfpennies and asked for "a little piece of taffy, please, ma'am," noticed that Hannah's eyes had red rims round them, and they wondered if she was naughty, and that was why she cried.

Yes, poor Hannah had a troubled heart during those early summer days, for Daisy lay so weak and languid, and indifferent to all external things, on her tiny little bed, never giving Hannah any information as to why she had wandered alone to Rosebury, never saying anything about the weight of sorrow which rested on her little heart, only now and then moaning out that she must get up and go to Mrs. Ellsworthy, and now and then feebly saying that she wished so very much that the Prince was there.

Hannah knew all about Mrs. Ellsworthy, and how she had taken the girls up, and tried to help them, after their mother's death; but who was the Prince?

Finding that the child continued slightly feverish, and most unnaturally weak--finding that the dainties she prepared were only just tasted by the little sufferer--Hannah looked well into her little store of hardly-earned money, and finding that she had sufficient to pay him, called in the village doctor.

Of course, with his limited experience, this good man could little understand Daisy's case. He ordered medicine for her, and plenty of cooling drinks, and said that he could not find anything very much the matter, only she was most unnaturally weak.

"It's my thinking, sir," said Hannah, "that this is the kind of weakness that ends in death. My little lady is all on the pine for something or some one, and unless she gets what she wants soon she will die."

Hannah's view of the case was rather puzzling to the doctor, who stared at her, and considered her from that day forward a very fanciful woman. He repeated his injunctions to give Daisy plenty of milk, and to see that she took her tonic three times a day; and then he took his leave.

When he was gone Hannah went to her next-door neighbor and asked her if she would be so very kind as to go and sit in the child's room for a couple of hours. Then she put on her bonnet and neat black cloak, and started off on foot to Rosebury. She had made up her mind to get Mrs. Ellsworthy's address from some one, and to write to her about Daisy. In due time she arrived at the lodge, saw the woman who kept the gates, obtained from her without much difficulty Mrs. Ellsworthy's address, and then prepared to return home. Just as she reached the stile, however, which led into the field where she had found Daisy, a thought struck her--she had no writing-paper in the house, and what could be bought at Teckford was almost too bad to use. Hannah made up her mind to go to Rosebury, which was a much more important village than Teckford, and get a few sheets of note-paper, and an envelope or two. She walked very fast, for she did not like to leave Daisy so long by herself, and, panting and hurried, she at last arrived at the little stationer's shop. The stationer's wife knew Hannah, and greeted her with effusion.

"I'm truly pleased to see you, Mrs. Martin," she said. "Why you're quite a stranger in these parts, and I did not expect to see you round now, with one of your young ladies returned and all."

Hannah heaved a profound sigh.

"She's very, very ill, poor darling," she said. "Very dangerously weak and ill; and I must trouble you to hasten with the paper, Mrs. Jones.

One penn'orth of your most shining note, and two envelopes to match.

Mind you, give me a paper with a good gloss on it, Mrs. Jones."

Mrs. Jones stared at Hannah Martin; but fetching down a box of note-paper, prepared to wrap some sheets in tissue paper.

"I shouldn't say Miss Primrose was ill," she remarked as she did so, "though she do seem worried, dear young lady."

When the shop-woman made this observation Hannah's pence tumbled down on the counter with a crash.