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