"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 you are made to be altered. now listen to my scheme.

"mr. ellsworthy writes for the papers and for one or two magazines. he has scientific tastes, and writing in this way gives interest to his life; but his eyes are not very strong, and he has for some time been wishing for some nice girl to whom he can dictate his thoughts. it seems to him, and to me too, that primrose is just the sort of girl he wants, and if she will come and live with us at shortlands, he will pay her something for giving him a couple of her hours daily—thus, you see, she will be earning her living and will be quite independent. you and daisy, jasmine, are to come to us on a visit, until we can find a school where, for your father's sake, your education may be finished."

"you mean a school for the orphan daughters of army men," said jasmine, "i know. well, thank you very much, but i'm afraid your plan won't answer. neither daisy nor i would at all like to go to a school for orphans. we don't fancy the idea of school, and dear mamma once said that she would never allow her girls to be taught at school, so, of course, that point is settled. then you know we could not always remain with you on a visit, for we are no relations of yours—you never heard of us at all until a few days ago, although we have lived here most of our lives. of course you don't mean to keep us always on a visit, so it would be very silly to begin a thing which could not go on. then about primrose—may i be quite honest with you about primrose?"

"oh yes, my dear."

"well now, she doesn't write well—not really—her hand moves so slowly, and i have seen some spelling mistakes now and then in her letters—i fly over the page myself, but then i only can read my own writing. i am greatly afraid that poor mr. ellsworthy would find primrose a bad secretary. no, no, no; ours is a much, much better plan. you see, mrs. ellsworthy, you must not be angry with us—we love you very much—we are greatly obliged to you, but we have quite made up our minds—we will not be separated. ah! here comes primrose. primrose, darling, here is mrs. ellsworthy—she is just going to listen to our plan—she has told us hers, and i have been explaining to her that it will not answer, for daisy and i are determined not to go to school, and you know, primrose, you are really stupid with your pen."

"how do you do, mrs. ellsworthy?" said primrose—she came in looking fagged and tired, and with a worried expression between her eyebrows. "mrs. ellsworthy," she said, "i am most grateful to you for being so kind to us. i know you won't approve at all of our plan—you will agree with mr. danesfield, who said he thought we had taken leave of our senses, but i think we have made up our minds, and as we have no guardian, there is no one to prevent us doing as we please."

"oh, primrose, how sad you look!" said jasmine. "has mr. danesfield been disagreeable to you? well, i know our darling mrs. ellsworthy won't. tell her our plan quickly. primrose, she says you don't love her—tell her you do love her. oh, she is sweet and dear and kind—tell her our plan—she won't throw cold water on what we wish to do—she won't think it wrong that we three girls should wish to keep together."

"our plan is this," said primrose, "i have asked mr. danesfield to give us what money he has of ours, and then we three are going to sell our furniture here, and to give up the cottage, and say good-bye to dear hannah, and we are going to london. in london we shall learn. i am going to have lessons in painting, and jasmine shall study english composition, and she shall be taught how to write properly; and daisy, too, must be taught, and we will do that with our money which is now in the bank, and when it is spent we shall be able to support ourselves. after all, it is a very simple plan, and the best thing about it is that it will keep us together."

when primrose began to talk mrs. ellsworthy threw down her hands in her lap with a gesture of great impatience. now she asked in a short dry voice, "may i ask what money you have in the bank?"

"yes, certainly—we have two hundred pounds—a little of that must be spent in paying one or two small accounts, but then we shall have the money as well from the sale of our furniture. yes, i think we shall have quite two hundred pounds to take to london."

"and we are going to be very economical," interposed jasmine. "we are going at first for a couple of nights to a boarding-house for ladies only. it is called penelope mansion, and is in a street off the edgware road—we have a friend, she is only a village girl, but we call her our friend—her name is poppy jenkins, who has just gone to penelope mansion to help her aunt, who is the owner of the boarding-house. while we are there we will see the sights, for of course that must be part of our education. we will go to westminster abbey to be solemnized, and we will go to the tower to perfect our knowledge of the tragical part of english history, and we must take daisy to the zoo, for she has always longed to see a lot of monkeys all together. i don't think we'll have any time for looking in at the shop windows, for we shall be very busy, and very, very earnest, but these places we must see. i daresay poppy and her aunt, and some of the nice ladies in the boarding-house, will go with us. when poppy has dusted up and put things straight in the morning, of course she'll have lots and lots of time. oh, it does seem such an easy, sensible plan."

"my poor, poor children!" exclaimed mrs. ellsworthy, "my poor, deluded, silly, obstinate children!" and then the good little woman burst into tears.