CHAPTER XXVI.
A DELIGHTFUL PLAN.
Neither Primrose nor Jasmine could quite understand their little sister that night--her cold was worse, but that fact Primrose accounted for by Jasmine's imprudence in taking her out; but what neither she nor Jasmine could understand was Daisy's great nervousness--her shrinking fear of being left for a moment by herself, and the worried and anxious look which had settled down on her usually quiet little face.

Primrose determined to do what she had never done yet since they had come to London--she would commit the unheard-of extravagance of calling in a doctor.
"I think Daisy is very feverish," she said to Jasmine; "only that it seems impossible, I would say she has got some kind of shock, and was trying to conceal something.

You are quite sure that you locked the door when you left her alone here this afternoon, Jasmine ?" "Oh, yes," answered Jasmine, "and I found it locked all right when I came back.

I was rather longer away than I meant to be, for I did such a venturesome thing, Primrose--I took my 'Ode to Adversity' to the Editor of _The Downfall_.

I saw him, too--he was a red-faced man, with such a loud voice, and he didn't seem at all melancholy--he said he would look at the poem, but he wasn't _very_ encouraging.