"I have done it, my dear Joseph," said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I went to see the children, and I wrote to that little proud princess Primrose. It will be really very nice if they all come here. We have such heaps and heaps of money, more than we know what to do with; money becomes uninteresting when you have so much. I think I have tried most of the pleasures that money can buy. I have heaps of dresses, and quantities of jewels, and my lovely country home, and my season in town, but what I have never yet had, and what I have earnestly longed for, was a daughter. A boy, after all, has to go to school, and to fight his way in the world—our boy is at school, and a very good place for him—but a woman wants a girl of her own to quite satisfy her heart.

"Now it seems to me that I may have three girls. We must keep up the fiction of Primrose being useful to you in your library, Joseph—you must give her letters to write, and you must be very patient with her when she makes mistakes, for the dear child has not been educated, and will probably make the worst of secretaries. Never mind, you must try to appear delighted, and to seem as if you never could have got on until Primrose Mainwaring came to help you.

"Then the little ones—of course they are coming under the supposition that they are only to stay until I have found them berths in one of those horrid charity schools for the orphan daughters of military men—but I promise you those berths shall be hard to find. The three will insensibly consider themselves our adopted children. Oh, what a delightful plan it is! and how picturesque I shall feel with my girls! Joseph, did you ever see a brighter or more bewitching little soul than our Jasmine?"

"Our Jasmine?" repeated Mr. Ellsworthy; "she is by no means ours yet, my love. Well, I trust your plan will succeed—they are nice girls, and I like to feel I am doing a kindness to poor Mainwaring's daughters. I shall be very pleased indeed if they make your life any happier, Kate."

Mrs. Ellsworthy stooped down and kissed her husband's brow—she was all impatience for the morning to arrive, for surely early then would come an answer to the letter she had written.

But Mrs. Ellsworthy was doomed to disappointment. The next day brought no answer from the Mainwaring girls. The good little lady bore her suspense as best she could until noon, then she ordered her carriage and drove into the village.

Jasmine herself opened the cottage door for her. Jasmine was looking excited, and there were red rings round her eyes as if she had been crying, and yet at the same time those bright eyes of hers were shining, and her lips were quivering between smiles and tears.

"Oh, you have come!" she exclaimed; "Primrose is in the village—she has gone to Mr. Danesfield about our money. Please come into the drawing-room. We are rather upset, for we are beginning to pack, and Hannah is washing out the anti-macassars and the white muslin curtains, for we think the muslin curtains will look so nice in our cheap lodgings. We are very busy, awfully busy, but do come in and sit down. Eyebright, here is Mrs. Ellsworthy. Mrs. Ellsworthy, isn't Eyebright a silly?—she is quite fretting because she won't see those last seeds of hers come up in the garden. Now, if she was asked to leave the Pink I would say nothing, but of course the Pink comes too."

"Yes, dear, and Daisy shall have plenty of garden ground for fresh seeds. Oh! my dear children," continued Mrs. Ellsworthy, "I shall be so delighted to welcome you all to Shortlands, only I think you might have replied to my letter."

Mrs. Ellsworthy was by this time seated in a low arm-chair by the window, and Jasmine was standing before her, while Daisy sat demurely on the floor, and folded up the anti-macassars.

"We might have answered your letter?" repeated Jasmine. "Well now, do you know, to be quite frank and open, your letter was a little bit of a lecture. You did give it to darling old Primrose, and somehow or other you made Daisy cry. You spoke about a plan, and you said it was a delightful plan, but—but before we read that part of your letter Primrose thought of another plan of her own, and it was so exquisite, so perfect, that we tore up your plan for fear we should be tempted by it. We don't know your plan, Mrs. Ellsworthy, and we don't want it, for we have made our own, and ours is—yes, ours is lovely!"

Mrs. Ellsworthy had an expressive face, and while Jasmine was talking it changed and grew anxious; her husband's words, "She is not our Jasmine yet," returned to her. Like many rich and pretty women, she was unaccustomed to opposition, and when it came it but whetted her desire, and made her also feel irritable.

"It is rude to tear up the letters of kind friends," she said. "I made a proposal which would have been in every way suitable to you girls, and you did not even trouble yourselves to read it. No, my loves, I am not angry. Daisy, come and give me a kiss; Jasmine, hold my hand. Now shall I tell you the little plan which you would not read about last night?"

"Oh, we would not be rude to you for the world," said Jasmine. "Daisy, come here, and give Mrs. Ellsworthy one of your sweetest kisses. Of course I will hold your hand—I love you, and so does Daisy, and so does—"

"No, so does not Primrose," answered Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose is the opposing element—still I trust I may conquer her. Now, my children, may I tell the plan?"

"Oh yes, do tell us," they both answered; but Jasmine added, "It will not be of the slightest use, for we have made our own."

"Well, dear, plans of girls as young as yo............