“Of course you could not, darling,” said Jasmine. “I am certain you have done right; of course we are rather depressed now with difficulties, but I think yours was a grand plan. I have a kind of feeling, Primrose, that our worst days are over; I think it more than probable you will have a great run on your china-painting bye-and-bye, and if The Downfall and the other magazines begin to wish for my poetry, why, of course, I shall earn two or three guineas a week. I am told that a guinea is not at all a large sum for a good poem, and I have no doubt I could write two or three a week; and then my novel—it is really going to be very good. Mr. Dove says that he would recommend me to put it in a newspaper first, and then offer it to a publisher to bring out as a book. I said I would only let my first work appear in a very high-class newspaper. I never much cared for newspaper stories, but I might put up with one of the illustrated weekly papers if it paid me well. Yes, Primrose, I feel hopeful; and I have not the smallest doubt that we can earn the ten pounds for our furniture very quickly, so let us borrow the money out of Mr. Danesfield’s letter. But Rose, darling, how do you know there is any money in the letter? You have never opened it and you can’t see inside.”
“I’ve never opened it, certainly,” said Primrose, “but from a hint Mr. Danesfield gave me on the last day I saw him, I believe there are three five-pound notes in the letter. Of course I am not sure, but I am nearly sure.”
“Well, let us get the letter and open it,” said Jasmine, “and then our minds will be at rest. Oh! there is Daisy waking out of her nice nap. Daisy, darling, would you not like to go and live at Miss Egerton’s? You know you are fond of Miss Egerton, and she is turning out a very kind friend. Won’t you like to live always in her nice house, Daisy love?”
Daisy’s little face had flushed painfully when Jasmine began to talk, now it turned white, and her lips trembled.
“Are there—are there any little birds there?” she asked.
“Oh, Eyebright, what a silly question! Primrose had she not better have her beef-tea. I think Miss Egerton keeps a canary, but I am not sure.”
“I’d rather not have any little birds about,” said Daisy, with great emphasis, “and I’d greatly, greatly love to go. I like Miss Egerton. When shall we go, Primrose?”
“In a day or two,” said Primrose. “We have just got to buy a little furniture, and I’m going to open my trunk now, and get a letter out which I know has money in it. Yes, we’ll very soon go away from here, darling, and Miss Egerton has thought of this delightful plan entirely to please you. She says you will be much, much better when you are out of this house. Oh, Daisy! how bright your eyes look, and how pleased you seem.”
“Yes,” said Daisy, “I am delighted; we need never walk down this street again, need we, Primrose? and we need never to have anything to say to the Doves, most particularly to Mr. Dove; not but that he’s very kind, and he’s—oh, yes! he’s my friend; yes, of course he told me he was my friend, but we needn’t ever see him again, ever, ever again, Primrose, darling?”