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."

"Wicked little girls are not delivered," answered Daisy. "I was so
dreadfully cowardly. I was afraid of a dark dungeon, and so--and
so--but I mustn't tell you. I did lose Primrose's money, and I was a
coward, but I haven't been so bad yet as to tell a lie. You mustn't
ask me to tell you what it all means, Mr. Prince, for I can't. I hope
very much you'll forgive me for being a cowardly little girl; God has,
long ago, for I asked Him, and I am not really afraid to die. I
shouldn't feel a bit afraid or unhappy about it if I thought Primrose
and Jasmine could have their money."

Here Daisy's voice quite failed her, and she looked so dreadfully
white and weak that Noel began to fear there was some truth in her
poor little words. He saw that their interview must not be prolonged,
and that he must give the child relief as soon as possible.

"Daisy, you have got to listen to me," he said. "You need say very
little yourself, but you can listen to my words. I know why you want
to see Mrs. Ellsworthy--yes, dear, you can hold my hand as tightly as
possible. No, don't tremble; you want Mrs. Ellsworthy to give you some
money. She is not here; I know she would help you, and feel sorry for
you, but there are others who do that. Daisy, suppose I give you back
your money instead of Mrs. Ellsworthy? Give me your little hand, dear,
and let me put the money into it. Here; it makes quite a small