She did not enjoy any more battle-fields, nor enter with good heart into her history work from that time, until she could get up stairs again and see that it was safe, and contrive some way or place to keep it safe in time to come.
Where could such a place be?
It was a puzzle, because all Daisy's things were, of course, open to her mother.

Perhaps Daisy's fears were needless; but after the affair of her Egyptian spoon she looked with jealous eves not only on her Bible, but on her trilobite.

She sat down with a dismayed little face, to think where she could find a hiding-place.

She thought of putting the Bible under her bed or pillow; but the bed was turned over every morning, and the servants would find it.

None of her bureau drawers or cabinet drawers were secure.