faltering voice.

"Rosebury, my little dear?" said the shopwoman; "no, I never heard of
the place. Is it anywhere near London, love?"

"No," said Daisy; "it's miles and miles away from London. I know the
county it's in--it's in Devonshire and a third single costs fifteen
shillings, and I have got fifteen shillings in my glove. Now, perhaps,
you'll know where it is."

"In Devonshire?" repeated the woman. "And a third single costs fifteen
shillings? Surely, miss, you are not going all that long way by
yourself?"

"Yes," said Daisy, in a dignified little tone. "I'm obliged to go.
Thank you very much for Pussy's milk. How much am I to pay? Oh, a
penny? Thank you. Good evening."

The Pink was once more shut down into her basket, and Daisy hurried
out of the shop. The good-natured woman stared after her, and felt
half inclined to call her back; but, like many another, she reflected
that it was no affair of hers. The child went on to the end of the
long street, and then stood at a corner where several omnibuses came
up. A conductor, seeing her wistful little face, jumped down from his
stand, and asked her if she wanted to go anywhere.

"To Rosebury, in Devonshire," said poor little Daisy. "It's fifteen
shillings a single third."

The man smiled at the anxious little face.