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Updated: June 15, 2025
Ellsworthy had breakfasted at a much earlier hour, and the little lady had her beautifully-appointed table to herself. "Now, if the girls were all here," she thought, "how pleasant and cheerful it would be! Primrose should sit just opposite to me, and pour out the coffee; she would do it very nicely and deftly, and would look so sweet and daughterly. And Jasmine little witch!
"Let me brush your hair, Miss Primrose," she said, when she had at last succeeded in inducing her young lady to dry her tears; "and are your hands nice and clean, Miss Primrose? and your collar, is it neat? It's very condescending of Mrs. Ellsworthy to call." "I wonder what she has come about," said Primrose; "she never knew my mother."
Primrose, it is true, did not share her younger sisters' enthusiasm, but even she was pleased, and owned to herself that Mrs. Ellsworthy was a very different neighbor from the village folk. Primrose's mind, however, was a good deal absorbed by what she had discovered in her mother's little old-fashioned cabinet. A letter directed to herself lay there unopened.
Ellsworthy bent her head to listen with rapt attention; and the two women were engaged for a couple of hours in most earnest conversation. That afternoon, when Jasmine, very weary and very depressed, toiled up the stairs to her Palace Beautiful, she found two letters awaiting her. One was from Primrose, containing very cheerful news about Daisy.
Ellsworthy, "We call Jasmine our artist at home." "And our poet she makes poetry about the Pink at home," said Daisy. "Oh, dear!" she continued, giving a deep sigh, "I can't see the Persian kitten anywhere. I do hope what Miss Martineau said is not true." "What did she say, my dear?" asked the lady of Shortlands.
The neighbors at the opposite side of the street felt quite scandalized, and said to themselves that surely the poor young ladies had seen the last of Mrs. Ellsworthy, after such a piece of impertinence. But the lady of Shortlands was really delighted. "To think of my being here all these years, and never knowing those charming creatures," she soliloquized.
"I know what it means," she exclaimed, speaking with sudden fire and passion; "the same thing has been said to me by two different people already to-day. Mr. Danesfield said it after his fashion, Miss Martineau after hers, and now Mrs. Ellsworthy repeats the words. Oh, yes, I know what it means separation I will never consent to it!"
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.
"Smell them; aren't they delicious? Mamma used to love them so I would not give them to any one but you." Mrs. Ellsworthy stooped and kissed Jasmine, and taking her hand, gave it a little squeeze. "Thank you, my love," she said "I value your beautiful flowers you shall arrange them yourself in this amber vase."
"Give me ten pounds to help the poor child over her present difficulties," said Miss Egerton, tears in her eyes. "Yes, ten pounds is quite enough. I will not take a penny more." "Now, Mrs. Ellsworthy, as we have comfortably disposed of this little matter, I want to talk to you most seriously about the girls." Mrs.
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