"I expect he's got something more for me," she exclaimed, and dived under the laurels to take a short cut to the drive and intercept him. "Give me the letters, please! It's my birthday!" she said breathlessly. "Only three this afternoon, missy! Don't know whether any of 'em's for you or not," said the man, laughing. "Let me see! Yes! yes! I'll take them, please. It's all right." Not sorry to save the extra walk to the house, the postman departed. He was late, and had a long round before he could return home. Daisy was looking eagerly at the letters. One, a thin foreign envelope, was addressed to Miss Gipsy Latimer, and that she thrust hastily into her coat pocket; the other two were for herself. They both contained postal orders, which elevated her to such heights of satisfaction that she never gave a thought to the letter she had stuffed in her pocket: indeed, in her excitement she had put it away so automatically that the incident faded from her memory almost as soon as it happened. She rushed into the house in a state of great exultation, to ask Miss Edith to take charge of her orders, and put them away safely. "A whole pound! Isn't it lovely? I shall buy a new camera, or perhaps a bookcase like Hetty Hancock's; or I want a bracelet watch most fearfully badly, and I expect I'll get some more money at Christmas that I could put to it. What would you advise, Miss Edith?" she chattered. "Wait till you go home and consult your mother," said Miss Edith. "What a cold you've got, child! You oughtn't to have been running about the garden. And this coat is much too thin. You must wear your thick one now. Put this away in your wardrobe, to take home at Christmas." "Mother said I needn't take my autumn clothes back with me," objected Daisy. "It only crams up my boxes. She said they might as well be left here." "Very well. I'll put it away in my big cupboard until the spring. Here are some cough lozenges, and I shall rub your chest to-night with camphorated oil. Go and sit by the fire, and mind you don't get into draughts." "I've got all my birthday letters to answer," replied Daisy, as she tripped gaily away. "I don't particularly want to go out again." Miss Edith folded the coat neatly, placed a packet of camphor balls with it to keep away moths, and laid it with a pile of similar garments inside a large cupboard in the linen room. It never struck her to look in the pockets, so the letter so longed for and expected lay upstairs in the dark, and Gipsy waited and hoped, and hoped and waited, all in vain.