POPSY-DAD.
The girls, Henrietta and Daisy, were quite intent on their scheme.
They were so intent that it kept them good in other respects. They
apologised humbly for the injury done to the grand Blüthner. They were
very penitent, and declared that it was just merely a lark, and hoped
darling, dearest dad would forgive them.
The Reverend Mr. O'Brien could not help saying, after his first pause
of astonishment: "The person who has to forgive you is Maureen."
"But why?" said Daisy, in an injured voice. "If you forgive your own
little girls, popsy-dad, surely, most surely, no one else ought to be
angry."
"It is Maureen's piano," replied the Rector. "You both did a naughty,
mischievous--indeed, I may say a wicked thing. I am heartily ashamed of
you; but Maureen has got such a glorious spirit of perfect gentleness
and love that she _may_ overlook your sin."
"I wish you wouldn't praise her quite so much," said Henrietta.
"I don't over-praise," said the Rector. "I think of her as what she
is. She comes of a noble stock. There never was anyone like her dear
father, and her sweet young mother in her own way was equally blessed.
They have long passed away from this troublesome world, but they have
left their child behind them. You are more than fortunate girls to have
such a companion, and to have the possibility of making such a friend.
I don't say for a moment that you _will_ make Maureen your friend. The
matter rests with yourselves. She has the true spirit of forgiveness.
No, don't touch the piano. You like to see it in its present horrible
condition. I will sit in another room; for to me it is most repugnant.
Amuse yourselves as you wish, girls. I am sorry I cannot feel very
friendly to you at the present moment, but of course as I have said
already, the matter rests in the hands of Maureen."
Certainly neither Henrietta nor Daisy felt comfortable at the Rector's
words, and when late that evening Dominic and Maureen returned from
Rathclaren, they both rushed out to her, Daisy whispering, "Now keep up
your courage, Henny."
There was a standard lamp lighted in the drawing-room, and the ravages
done to the Blüthner were very perceptible. Maureen, who had a happy
colour in her cheeks and whose eyes were bright and soft, stared for
a moment at the mangled instrument with a sort of horror. Mrs. Leach,
who had joined the Colonel's tea-party, had not told the child what
had happened; and Kathleen, who loved Maureen, had walked about the
grounds with her letting her cling to her arm and throwing all the
interest of which she was capable into Maureen's account of her life.
"You know, Maureen, you ought to live here," said Kathleen at last.
But Maureen stared at her, and said with a voice of amazement: "What!
and leave Uncle Pat?"
So Kathleen said no more. She felt afterwards that she could not.
Now the child stood in speechless despair, looking at her lovely
instrument.
"Why, Daisy--why, Henrietta--what has happened?" she asked, and there
was a choking sob in her voice. "Has one of the big farm sheep-dogs got
in and walked about on the piano? Oh, it is more than that, for someone
has been trying to break the lock! Oh, my darling piano--my soul of
music----"
"Don't be affected, little brat!" said Daisy, who could flare up
just like a match. Whatever else she would have said to the child
was interrupted. Whether she would have accepted the theory of the
sheep-dog and pretended that a burglar had tried to break the piano
open can never be explained, for at that instant the Rector and Dominic
entered the room.
Dominic had the steely blue eyes of his father--blue, with just a touch
of grey in them--eyes which suddenly turned black at any emotion.
"Have you told Maureen the truth?" asked Mr. O'Brien.
"We--we were going to," said Daisy, "but she flew out with that horrid
temper of hers, raving and roaring."
"That is not the way with Maureen. Now tell her the truth before me.
Dominic, go and stand by your cousin."
Thus forced, the girls were obliged to say what had occurred. They
described their rage when they found the piano locked, and how they had
determined to dance a Scotch reel on the top. They confessed that their
boots were very muddy, for they had been experimenting on the edge of a
boggy piece of ground that morning.
"How," said the Rector, when the ignominious tale had come to an end,
"what do you wish to do, Maureen?"
The colour came slowly back to Maureen's face until it burned in her
cheeks like two great spots.
"Dominic," she said, without taking the slightest notice of the girls,
"we must not let such sheer ignorance trouble us. Go, like a darling to
Pegeen, and get me some cloths and some Adams' polish. I daresay I can
make the piano look fairly well until it is properly repolished, which
'dear Colonel' I know will get done for me."
"Then we needn't sit up, I suppose," said Henrietta, giving a profound
yawn.
"Oh, no," said Maureen. "Oh, I'm very, very sorry for you. You
must have felt so bad afterwards. It is dreadful to feel _very_
bad--afterwards. Good-night!"
There was a wonderful gracious sort of dignity about this little girl
which subdued the Mostyns for the time being; but they were more than
ever determined to punish her.
"She feels nothing; she hasn't a scrap of heart," said Daisy. "Think of
her putting on those absurd airs. But _we'll_ touch her yet; I vow we
will!"
"Yes, we will, we will--I declare we will!" exclaimed Henrietta. Soon
they were lying in their oak bedsteads side by side, and talking in low
whispers about how they could punish Maureen.
The next day passed much as usual. The little, half-French, half-Irish
girl was very brave, and spent most of her time with Dominic. Her face
was sadly pale, and she had a look about her eyes which frightened the
boy because he could not understand it. "If she only _would_ fly out in
a rage," he thought, "I could bear it better."
The Colonel came as usual to take his little favourite for a ride, and
during their ride the child made an unexpected request.
"I don't want to make any complaint," she began, "but I want the dear,
darling Blüthner to go home to you for a time. We can hire a piano from
Kingsala, and the Blüthner will be safer with you. It got a little
injured yesterday, but I can't tell you how, dear Colonel; only if you
keep it I shall feel happy, and when I come to you I can sing and
play; and we can hire quite a good enough piano at Barry's on the Long
Quay at Kingsala."
"There's something the matter with you, my blessing," said the Colonel.
"No, no, nothing at all; only I want to have the Blüthner safe."
Accordingly, a day or two later, a proper van was sent for the
Blüthner, which once more found its place in the Colonel's beautiful
drawing-room. Soon afterwards a man came and repaired the damage that
had been done, and Maureen seemed happy once more; but she little knew
what was awaiting her. A piano, the best which could be secured, an
upright Broadwood, was hired by Maureen herself from Barry's, and this
piano was never locked and the girls could pound on it as much as they
pleased.
"Only let me know when you intend to play," said the Rector, "for true
music is the delight of my life, whereas such chords and crashes as you
produce, to say nothing of your false notes, Henrietta, have a very
unpleasant effect upon me."
"Well, I am sure," said Henrietta, "I was always remarked at school for
my glorious voice. They said that if I wasn't so rich I ought to go in
for opera, and I am sure Daisy plays my accompaniments first rate."
"I do so," said Daisy. "I have two big chords for the bass, and play
the tune with one or two fingers for the treble. I am told it has a
very pleasing effect."
"Well, play your own way," said the Rector, "but don't ask me to admire
what is not music."
All this time the hearts of the two girls were waxing very hot within
them. They had looked in vain for any medical book in their father's
library, and at last they determined to drive into Kingsala and ask the
chemist to give them some rat poison.
"We must be careful of one thing," said Henrietta to her sister; "we do
not want to _kill_ the horse, we only want to make him very ill. Then
_she'll_ get into a pepper and we'll pretend to sympathise, and have
our lark all the time."
Accordingly, on a beautiful bright morning, the Misses Mostyn implored
their step-father to lend them the phaeton in order to drive to
Kingsala.
"What do you want to do there, my dears?"
"Oh, lots of the sort of things that men don't take any interest in,"
said Henrietta. "We want to furbish ourselves up a little. They say
Barry's shop isn't half bad."
"Oh, ribbons and laces," said the Rector. "Well, I have no particular
use for my horse this morning, and Laurence, the groom, can drive you
in. Would you like to go too, Maureen, my pet? You could take Kitty
with you and choose her summer hat for her."
"Oh, Uncle Pat, Kitty doesn't want a summer hat. I have just finished
the third of those pretty white muslin ones, and nothing could look
sweeter on her dear little head. No, I don't think I want to go; not
to-day at least. Thank you all the same, Uncle Pat."
About an hour later Henrietta and Daisy were driving off in the phaeton
to Kingsala. The Rector with his increased means was thinking of buying
a smart little pony-trap for two ponies, which would exactly suit
Maureen and Kitty. He had heard that there was the very trap and also
the small ponies for sale in the auction mart in Cork, and determined
to start off the following day to try and secure them. Garry could
manage the ponies as well as the spirited Arab. The Rector would go
round to the stables and speak to him at once on the subject. Maureen's
birthday, when she would be fifteen, was drawing nigh, and he thought
that a new pony trap would be a nice present for her.
He felt very happy as he paced about his neatly-kept grounds and tried
as far as possible to banish the thought of the Mostyn girls from his
mind. Of course he was bound to look after them, but he could not like
them. In fact, they tried him inexpressibly.
Meanwhile, the said girls, in every scrap of finery they could collect,
drove to the town where their mother had so often been before them.
Mrs. O'Brien was very well known; the Misses Mostyn were not known at
all. The little town was all alive and eager, for a regatta was going
on that day, and the bay was full of beautiful yachts, and Patrick's
Quay was crowded with spectators. The chemist intended to shut up
shop and join the group, who watched the different races, as soon as
possible. He was a young man with carroty hair and sunken chin. His
name was Driscoll.
Now Driscoll was by no means pleased at the arrival of fresh customers.
He didn't want either them or their money; he was all agog for the
beautiful races, and hated to have his time interfered with. The Misses
Mostyn were not attractive-looking girls. Daisy saw his impatience at
a glance and immediately proceeded to take advantage of it. Driscoll
pretended not to see her drift, but he took the measure of the young
lady.
"What may ye be wanting?" he asked. "Don't ye know that this is a
holiday? And I'm just on the p'int of shutting up shop."
"Oh, it won't take you a minute, Mr. Driscoll," said Daisy. "Father is
the Rector of Templemore, and couldn't come himself, so he sent us. He
wants us to buy some rat-poison."
"Are ye the daughters of she who bruk her neck?" asked Driscoll.
"We are--we are lone orphans on the mother's side," said Daisy; "but we
couldn't have a better father."
"Ye are right there; a holier man never walked the road. What is it ye
said he was wanting?"
"Rat poison. Please give it to us quickly. It isn't for us; it is for
the Rector."
"Did he send in a prescription?"
"No; whatever is that?"
"I can't sell pisons without a prescription," said Driscoll. "I'd get
into a fine mess. If the Rector is troubled with rats--though I thought
I'd banished every one of them some months ago when 'herself' was
alive--he'd best write to me and I'll send it to him. No, ladies, I'm
sorry to be disobliging, but without a prescription no pison will ye
get."
"Oh, dear, dear," said Henrietta; "father will be so disappointed.
Perhaps there are some other chemists in the town who won't be so
particular, Mr.--Mr. Driscoll."
"Another chemist!" Driscoll threw up his hands. "Could Kingsala support
two, I'd like to ask ye? No; I'm the wan and the sole wan. I sold some
rat-poison to 'herself' a time back; but I suppose when the rats were
gone she was wise enough to destroy it. There now, I must say good-day
to ye, ladies, for I must shut up shop."
The girls felt a good deal disappointed, but they were the sort of
young people who kept their feelings to themselves. They marched about
the town and peeped into Barry's shop and entered and bought yards upon
yards of pale blue ribbon, which they desired the man to put down to
the Reverend Patrick O'Brien, as they were his daughters.
Presently they found themselves on Patrick's Quay, which was now packed
and crowded with eager spectators. The greatest yacht-race of the
season was about to come off. The _Sea Foam_, a magnificent yacht,
belonging to the Earl of Banbury, was to compete against the _Sea
Sprite_, a local yacht belonging to a Mr. Jagoe.
Excitement had risen to its extreme height. All the population wanted
Jagoe's yacht to win, but the _Sea Foam_ out-did her with the utmost
ease, flying gracefully like a bird over the bosom of the waters, out
of the inner harbour into the outer and then back again, beating the
_Sea Sprite_ by a matter of at least ten minutes. The _Sea Sprite_ came
to her anchorage looking dull and dusty, with her sails torn, for the
wind had got up a good bit; but the _Sea Foam_ lay like a white swan,
calm and at rest on the waters.
The great races were followed by little races, sailing boats and
row-boats and canoe races. The whole scene was most brilliant and
charming, and every girl in the place put on all the finery she
possessed, and all the men members of the yachting club were in white
flannels. Nobody spoke to Henrietta or to Daisy, though the chemist
approached them once and said, "Have ye got that there rat-pison?" but
Henrietta in the midst of her present surroundings, threw up her head
in extreme haughtiness and said: "Sir, I have not the pleasure of your
acquaintance."
"_Driscoll_ by name, and _Cautious_ by nature," replied the chemist.
He then turned and said something to his companion, a pretty little
girl of his own class. They both looked at the Misses Mostyn, and both
laughed loudly, and Henrietta and Daisy thought it as well to start on
their homeward way.
As they were approaching the Rectory, Daisy said in a low voice, which
she could assume at will and which certainly the groom could not hear,
"I have a notion in my head, Henny-penny!"
"What is that, Daisy? To tell the truth, I'm about tired of your
notions. They never come to anything at all."
"Well, but this one will--this one will," said Daisy, skipping up and
down in the phaeton as she spoke. "Don't you remember what that horrid
man Driscoll said--that he had sold rat-poison to mumsie some time
ago; so there must have been rats once at Templemore. He said also, of
course, that naturally mumsie pumsie would destroy the poison when the
rats were gone--but I'm by no means so sure of that. It was not a bit
the way of the careless old duck."
"Well?" said Henrietta.
"Well, what I'm thinking is this: that we have got to find what is left
of the rat-poison."
"Oh," said Henrietta, "I haven't a notion where to look for it." She
yawned as she spoke. "These long drives do make one so sleepy," she
said.
"You don't seem interested in anything, Henny. You are an old goose!"
"Am I? Well, that's better than being a young gosling."
"By the way," said Daisy, "I remember a lovely story. I know it is
true, for a girl at our dear old school told it to me. It happened to a
lady she knew, and she said it was as true as paint. It was this: There
was a very, very stout old body--oh, monstrous stout, but not really
ill, only hypochondriacal, and of course she was always and forever
sending for the doctor. He was a country doctor, but he had a sense of
humour in him. One day the old dame said to Doctor Macgregor, 'Doctor,
I'm about to visit London.' 'Are ye now that?' said he. You see, she
was an Irish body and she spoke the Irish brogue. 'And is it you that
will cross the sea, Miss Marmaduke?' 'Yes, to be sure,' she answered;
'and why not?' 'Well,' said the doctor, who was a bit of a wag, 'ye'll
be mighty sick, ye know.' 'I suppose I will,' she answered. 'Maybe I'll
die. But I've a great longing to see London town.' 'Ye won't die,' said
the doctor, 'if that is what ye are thinking of. But ye'll be mighty
uncomfortable with all that fat on yer body. You'll wish yourself safe
back in Dublin, that ye will.' 'Well, anyway, I'm going,' said the
stout lady, 'and I'll tell ye what it is, Doctor Macgregor, I don't
think ye make half enough of my illness and suffering.' 'Me not think
enough of them!' said he. 'Why, I'm thinking of them day and night.'
'Well, to be sure, are ye now,' said the lady. 'But there is one thing
I must say to you, doctor, you haven't a sympathetic manner.' 'It
doesn't do for a doctor to be sympathetic with his patients,' said the
doctor. 'Sympathy would kill them off like flies.' 'I am surprised
to hear ye say that,' said the stout lady; 'I should have thought it
would have done them a power of good. Well, anyway, ye must acknowledge
that I am ill.' 'Oh, very ill, ma'am; very ill entirely.' 'Then I think
as I am going to London,' said the stout lady, 'that you might write
a letter to the cleverest doctor there--an Irishman if ye can find
one--and give me the letter to take to him, and I'll be bound I'll get
out what is the matter with me.' 'Well, to be sure, I'll do that,' said
the doctor. 'I know the very man, too--Malony of Harley Street. When
are ye going to cross the briny?' 'To-morrow as ever is,' she replied.
'Well, I'll give ye a note to Malony which will clinch the business. Ye
mustn't be frightened at anything he says to ye, for ye must remember
ye have brought it on yourself.'
"So the next day that wag of a fellow brought her a letter and told her
to call on the great Doctor Malony and put his letter carefully into
the hands of the great man, and to make up her mind for a really bad
verdict. The stout old lady was delighted, for she loved bad verdicts.
She got on board the boat and as the sea was rough, she suffered a good
deal from sickness; but the sicker she was the more she liked herself,
and the worse she was the tighter she clasped Doctor Macgregor's letter
in her hand. The sea certainly was rough, and most of the passengers
were sick, and the stewardess brought the fat old lady some brandy and
water to drink. The boat gave a great roll that moment and lo and
behold! in a minute the beautiful letter which was to seal the stout
lady's doom was sopped through and through with brandy and water. She
felt angry for a moment, but then it flashed through her mind that
she'd open it, for it was quite soft like pulp, and she would be able
to see for herself what Doctor Macgregor said about his patient. 'At
the least, it must be the beginning of cancer,' she murmured. 'Dear,
dear, dear! But anyhow, he'll tell the truth to a brother physician,
and it is as well for me to know.'
"Well, Henny-penny, what do you think? They were getting towards the
harbour then, and it wasn't so rough, and she was able to read the
words inside the letter; and if ever a woman's eyes dilated and if ever
her heart throbbed, the fat old lady's did then, for Doctor Macgregor's
letter was brief and to the point: 'Dear Malony,' it ran, '_I am
sending you a fat goose. Pluck her well and send her back to me_!' You
may be quite sure, Henny-penny, that the fat old lady never went near
Malony; but she tore the letter in little bits and went to a quack,
who told her she had innumerable illnesses, all jumbled together, and
if there was any chance of her life, she must undergo at least four
operations; so she was as happy as the day was long. I declare you have
scarcely smiled, and I doing my level best to amuse you! Well, here we
are back at Templemore. Now then, jump out. I'm starving for tea if you
aren't."
The girls went into the house. Maureen and Kitty were away. Neither
Dominic nor Denis were anywhere to be found, and the Rector was as
usual visiting his sick and sorry parishioners.
The girls took their tea soberly, Henrietta hardly thinking at all and
feeling half asleep, but Daisy's brain being, as usual, very much on
the alert. When tea was a thing of the past and Burke had cleared away
all traces of it from the great hall, Daisy made her invariable remark:
"How many new-laid eggs and how much peach-jam did you eat in the
kitchen to-night, Burke?"
Burke stared glumly at the young lady, and made no answer of any sort;
Daisy lost her temper a little and flew at Burke and said, "You _are_ a
nasty thief of an old man."
"If you plaze, miss, ye'll have the goodness to lave me alone," Burke
replied. He then walked with a dignity which the girl herself would
never possess out of the hall and in the direction of the kitchens.
"Pegeen," he said, "it's me heart that's bruk entirely."
"Ah, wisha, honey," said Pegeen, "I wouldn't fret for the likes o'
they."
"They have come to that pass that they accuse me--ME--of theft. Am I
likely to put up with that?"
"Is it me 'ud do it?" said Pegeen; "I'd scratch their faces for 'em.
But you being a rale jintleman, Mr. Burke, honey, couldn't do that; but
I'll do it for ye, quick, as soon as possible."
Meanwhile Henrietta strolled languidly into the drawing-room. She
opened the piano supplied by Barry and produced false chords and
crashes which would have sent Maureen or the Rector flying from the
house; but Daisy left her to her amusement and went softly, very softly
upstairs. She had long ago regretted her silly nonsense about the
banshee and the haunted room, for that north chamber where she and her
sister slept was the reverse of comfortable. The great spacious, lovely
bedroom, which had been her mother's, was now occupied by the Rector
of Templemore, and next to it was the little dressing-room belonging
to Maureen. Daisy's flaxen head stole cautiously round the door of the
big room. It was empty. So much the better. She now went on tiptoe,
trembling in her excitement, towards a little old medicine closet,
which was let into the wall.
This medicine closet had not been opened or cleaned or touched since
the late Mrs. O'Brien's death, and it was the thought of that little
cabinet and of what it might possibly contain which had made Daisy's
heart so light and her voice so merry on her way home. Now she opened
it wide and began to explore. There were all sorts of dusty, grimy
bottles within, some half full, some empty, some bearing the words "Sal
Volatile," some bearing the words "Ipecacuanha," others "Epsom Salts,"
others "Ginger," others "Peppermint." But in the back of the cupboard,
pushed out of sight, stood a small row of very dark blue bottles with
poison written on them in large letters.
Daisy's heart almost choked her with delight. One contained laudanum,
and the directions were, "To be rubbed over the affected parts when
the pain is severe." Another contained belladonna, with the same
directions, and on each bottle was inscribed the words, "_Not to be
taken internally._ POISON." But Daisy's eyes lit up with bliss when she
came across a little pot marked _Rat-poison_, and with full directions
how to use it.
"Spread some of the mixture on thin bread and butter and leave it near
the rat-hole. The contents of this pot are principally arsenic and
phosphorus. A dose sufficient to kill a dozen rats can be put on a very
small square of bread."
Daisy put the rest of the bottles back into their places and danced
downstairs to Henny-penny.
"Seek--find! Which hand?" she exclaimed. Her tiny eyes were blazing
with delight.
Henrietta turned from her strumming on the piano to look at her.
"What is the matter with you, Daisy? What are you so excited about?"
"Come up to our bedroom at once," she said. "I have just grand news for
you. Come along as fast as ever you like."
Henrietta began to feel really excited. She followed her sister
upstairs. They locked themselves into the ugly bedroom, and there Daisy
told the story of her great discovery. Henrietta listened in breathless
silence.
"Where's the horse now?" she asked.
"Out, of course, with that little brat Maureen. We'll do it to-night,
Henny; we'll do it to-night."
Henrietta turned the rat-poison round and round.
"I don't think," she said, after a pause, "he'll eat his mash if some
of this horrid stuff is put into it. You said the mumsie had other
poisons."
"Oh, yes; laudanum and belladonna."
"Well, I think if I were you, Daisy, I'd put this rat-poison back again
and secure the bottle with the laudanum. He would not taste that if it
was well mixed up in a big soft mash. You know, we mustn't kill him. I
declare positively against that. How much do you think we might venture
to put in?"
"I don't know," said Daisy. "I wish I did."
Then she clapped her hands excitedly. "I know, I know!" she exclaimed.
"I'll ask the village nurse, Miss Duncom."
"Then you give yourself away," said Henny. "You quite frighten me,
Daisy."
"It is because I don't want to frighten you that I ask the village
nurse. I shan't mention the horse's name. Of course not. Now I
know Miss Duncom is going to Mrs. Haggarty's cottage to dress the
old woman's leg, and I'll catch her as sure as sure. I'll keep the
laudanum bottle up in our room until we want it. I'll manage to creep
into Fly-away's loose box by means of the window. I know that that
detestable Garry always brings him his mash the last thing, and then
locks him in for the night. Now, don't keep me, Henny. I'll change
this rat-poison. The laudanum will be miles better."
"Oh, do be careful," said her sister.
Daisy presently dashed into their joint bedroom. She had put back the
rat-poison and had brought up the little dark blue bottle of laudanum.
"Here, hide it under your bed," she exclaimed.
"No; under yours," said Henrietta.
"As you please," remarked Daisy. "Only it seems _I_ have all the
trouble while you have the fun. Think of her screeching and raving over
her dying horse, and I'll have done it all--all."
"The horse is not to die," said Henrietta.
"Well, _I_ suppose you do not mind his being made ill?"
"No, I don't mind that. I don't mind giving her a fright."
"Well, then, let me go off, for goodness' sake."
Daisy dashed up the avenue and arrived at Mrs. Haggarty's. As she
expected, Nurse Duncom was there. She was a remarkably nice-looking
young woman, and all the people in the place adored her. The bandaging
of the leg had taken place, and she was just leaving the cottage, when
she saw Daisy.
"Why, Miss Mostyn, is anything wrong? Is there anything I can do for
you?"
"Oh, nothing really wrong," said Daisy; "only I don't want to frighten
father. He loves me so much. I suffer at night from such horrible pains
in my tummy-tum, and I found in dear mother's old medicine cupboard a
little bottle of laudanum. Do you think I might take a few drops?"
"I don't think you ought to take any," said Nurse Duncom. "It is a very
dangerous medicine, and I should not dream of ordering it for you. You
could have peppermint or something harmless of that sort."
"But, please, would three drops kill me?"
"Certainly not. I dare say you could manage to take eight drops,
provided you gave them to yourself in a measure glass, without coming
to any harm; but I cannot possibly _order_ them for you."
"If a--a cow was in awful pain, would you give it more than that?"
"Undoubtedly, though I don't know anything about the treatment of
cows. What queer questions you are asking me, Miss Mostyn. The cow is
a much larger animal and can stand a much bigger dose, but really I
would not dream of ordering laudanum for any creature. I am sorry you
are suffering; probably it is indigestion. I will send you up a little
bottle of peppermint to-night, and you can take from ten to fifteen
drops in a little water. That is _quite_ safe. Good-bye now, Miss
Mostyn. I must hurry to old Burchell. Talk of pain! Ah, you little know
what it means. I must give him his dose of morphia, but nothing will
save his life. Still, he will be looking out for me, and the morphia
keeps the worst agonies under."
Daisy danced back to her sister.
"I have everything as pat as pat," she said. Little she cared for
Burchell's dying agonies. "I saw Duncom and she told me. I did not
give myself away in the least. We must give Fly-away from sixteen to
twenty drops of the laudanum. Luckily there is a little medicine glass
in mumsie's cupboard. I'll measure it into that. Then he'll get rather
bad, but he won't die. Hurrah! Hurrah! I _am_ a clever girl!"