CHAPTER LI.

A LETTER.

A morning or two after this, when Daisy had greatly advanced towards

convalescence, and was sitting up in Hannah's tiny little sitting-room

to partake of a very dainty little breakfast, Primrose received a long

letter from Miss Egerton. This was what it contained:--

"MY DEAR PRIMROSE,

"You of course know that that wicked man Dove has received the

sentence which he so richly deserves. Alas, we cannot get back all the

stolen money, but we must manage without it, dear, and you are never

even to talk of repaying me for the furnishing of dear little Daisy's

Palace Beautiful. It has been a joy to me to have you, dear, and I

hope you will be able to bring Daisy back with you, and to live here

in peace and comfort next winter. Dear Primrose, it is more and more

evident to me that young girls should not venture to come to London

alone. You showed much bravery in your undertaking; but, my dear

girl, the pitfalls you exposed yourselves to were awful to

contemplate. I don't want to make you unhappy, dear, after all you

have suffered with regard to Daisy, but I must now tell you of a

little adventure which our poor dear Jasmine has had. You know how

very anxious she has been to see herself in print. Of course, I could

not conscientiously encourage her, for although she may have talent

(this I am not prepared to say), yet she is a great deal too young to

have anything printed. All books worth anything should teach, and

surely our dear little girl is only at the age to be taught herself.

"Well, Primrose, the little maid was fired with the strongest

ambition. She wrote her novel in secret, and one day, accompanied by

that good-natured Poppy Jenkins and sweet little Daisy, went

Citywards, and simply plunged--for I can use no other word--into the

unknown and to me rather awful realm of publishers.

"Poor child, of course none of the good houses would even look at her

immature productions; but she was taken in by a man who professed

himself to be the editor of a monthly paper--_The Joy-bell_ was its

silly title. On an understanding that her story was to be printed in

the pages of _The Joy-bell_--of course I've never seen the paper, and

should not dream of reading anything so rubbishy--poor Jasmine was

induced to subscribe two pounds five shillings, or, in other words, to

undertake to buy one hundred copies of _The Joy-bell_. Of course she

imagined that her printed words would immediately bring her fame. She

paid her money, and looked out for her story."

"Where did she get the money from?" thought the anxious reader.

"Primrose, how wrinkled up your brows are;" called out little Daisy.

Primrose sighed, and resumed her perusal of the closely-written

sheets.

"On the very evening our little Daisy ran away Jasmine received her

first proofs. They were barbarously printed on wretched paper, but the

poor child was in such trouble then that she scarcely noticed them.

Afterwards she did read them with care, and was surprised to find what

a very small portion of her story had been printed.

"You know that I was unexpectedly detained in the country by the

serious illness and death of my poor cousin. Jasmine was not doing as

well as we supposed by her profession of dressing dinner-tables. The

dear child was determined not to ask help from any one, not even from

you, Primrose, and she made a valiant effort to support herself on her

tiny earnings. Alas, her purse was all too soon emptied, and she had

also upon her the awful load of debt, for Poppy Jenkins it seems, lent

her the money to get that rubbishy story published. In her despair she

thought of _The Joy-bell_, and went off to see the editor.

"She was met at the office (poor child, how she could venture there

alone is a mystery to me) with the intelligence that _The Joy-bell_

had ceased to exist, and the editor had decamped with poor Poppy's

wages.

"Luckily I came home that evening, and found your poor little sister

in sad trouble. I am thankful to say I have been able to relieve her

present necessities without the slightest inconvenience to myself.

Jasmine has been greatly shaken, but she is better again now, and is

most anxious that you should not be troubled. I only tell you this

much, dear Primrose, because I consider it my bounden duty that you

should know how matters really stand. Rest happy about Poppy; her

money has been returned to her, and Jasmine has sufficient for her

present necessities. On second thoughts, I had better perhaps let you

into my little secret. I have borrowed ten pounds for Jasmine on that

valuable Spanish lace of her mother's. Do not imagine that the lace is

gone; it will be returned to Jasmine whenever she can refund the

money. It was necessary, dear Primrose, to take it, and I acted as I

am sure you would think right in the matter. Poppy had to be paid her

wages.

"Now, dear Primrose, I want to talk with you very seriously on another

matter. You must own, dear, that though you have tried bravely you

have not yet, any of you, succeeded in earning your living. It is

almost a year since you began to try, and you have made, I fear, but

small headway. You, Primrose, have done best, and have made fewer

mistakes than your sisters, but even you would not care to spend all

your life in continual reading to Mrs. Mortlock. Jasmine can only earn

a precarious and uncertain living by dressing dinner-tables. Of

course, no one even expects dear little Daisy to contribute to the

family purse at present, but at the same time she need not put us into

terrible frights, nor be in the power of wicked and designing people.

My dear girls have had a trial of their own way; and now I think they

ought to take the advice of those older and wiser than themselves.

"If, dear Primrose, you want to earn your living well--and nothing

makes a woman braver and better than being able to support

herself--you must be educated to take up some one profession in an

efficient manner. Money must be spent for this purpose, and you must

not be too proud to accept money from those who really love you. I

have been to see Mrs. Ellsworthy, and she and I had a long, long talk

about you girls. She is full of kindness, and she really and truly

loves you. It would be worse than folly, it would be wicked, to throw

such friendship away. Mrs. Ellsworthy tells me that she has been

consulting your old friend Mr. Danesfield about you. Both he and Mrs.

Ellsworthy are arranging plans which they trust you will all listen to

with patience. These plans shall be fully disclosed to you on your

return to town, but I may as well mention here that it will be

absolutely necessary that you should give up your present lives, and

should enter seriously on the great work of education. Money must be

spent for this object; but when you are able to earn well, bye-and-bye

it will be in your power to repay the money to the kind friends whose

happiness it is now to lend it to you.

"Dear Primrose,

"I am, yours affectionately,

"AGNES EGERTON."

There was much in this letter to pain Primrose, and a year before she

might have torn it up and determined in no way to be guided by it; but

a year had brought her some very strange and some very sad

experiences. She was troubled and shocked to think that Jasmine should

have taken poor Poppy's hard earnings. She was deeply distressed at

owing herself so much to Miss Egerton, and now also so large a debt to

Arthur Noel. She had worked hard, and had done wonderfully well

considering, but nevertheless at the present moment, owing to adverse

circumstances, she was plunged in debt in many directions, and saw

little hope of repaying what she owed. Life seemed very difficult to

Primrose just then, and hot tears rose to her eyes.

Should she go still farther in debt, and give up the great struggle to

be independent? Oh, no, she could not--she could not. Her pride rose

up in rebellion; her passionate longing to be free and her own

mistress, to be beholden to no one for the necessaries of life, was

too strong to be easily crushed. Better the dullest life, better be a

"continual reader" all her days than take the money of strangers. This

was her feeling, and it grew so strong moment by moment, that she

might have sat down to answer Miss Egerton's letter there and then but

for a rather innocent little remark made by Daisy.

"Dear Primrose, I forgot it in all the other great trouble, but I do

want to send fifteen shillings as soon as possible to dear good Poppy.

She lent me fifteen shillings to buy a single third to come to

Rosebury, and I forgot all about it. Please, Primrose, try and spare

me fifteen shillings to send to Poppy."

"So you too are in debt, Daisy," said Primrose. "Oh, dear, what shall

I do? Daisy, dear, forgive me, I ought not to mind anything now you

are growing better, but my heart is heavy, and I feel almost crushed.

Yes, Daisy, dear Poppy must have her money. I won't write to Miss

Egerton until to-morrow."

Here Primrose wiped some tears from her sweet brown eyes, but she took

good care not to allow Daisy to see that she was crying.

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