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.