She then got Primrose to tell her as much as possible about Daisy.

All the child's distress and nervousness and unaccountable unhappiness were related, and the sage little woman shook her head several times over the narrative, and said at last, in a very common-sense voice-- "It's as clear as a pikestaff to Jemima Dredge that that sweet little child has been tampered with.

Somebody has been frightening the bit of a thing, Miss Primrose, and it's for you to find out who that somebody is.

As to where she's gone?
Why, she has gone back to where she was born, of course, and you and me will follow her by the first train in the morning, my dear." "She was taking care of a cheque of mine for seventeen pounds ten shillings," exclaimed Primrose, "and in her little note she speaks of the money being lost.

I think nothing of the loss of the money beside Daisy, but, Mrs.Dredge, Jasmine and I cannot afford even a third-class ticket to Rosebury just at present." "Tut, tut, my dear," said Mrs.Dredge, "what's the good of a full purse except to share it?
My poor husband Joshua was his name--we was two J's, dear--he always said, 'Jemima, thank God the chandlery is prospering.