Primrose's quiet voice interposed.

"I think, Miss Martineau," she began, "that the first subject will be
more than Jasmine and I can quite bear--you must forgive us, even if
you fail quite to understand us. It is no question of forgetting--our
mother will never be forgotten--it is just that we would rather not.
You must allow us to judge for ourselves on this point," concluded
Primrose, with that dignity that suited her so well. Primrose, for all
her extreme quietness and simplicity of manner and bearing, could look
like a young princess when she chose, and Miss Martineau, who would
have quarrelled fiercely with Jasmine, submitted.

"Very well," she said, in a tone of some slight offence; "I came here
with a heart brimful of sympathy; it is repulsed; it goes back as it
came, but I bear no offence."

"Shall we discuss your second subject, dear Miss Martineau?" continued
Primrose. "I know that you have a great deal of sense and experience,
and I know that you have a knack of making money go very far indeed.
You ask us what our plans are--well, I really don't think we have got
any, have we, Jasmine?"

"No," said Jasmine, in her shortest tones. "We mean to live as we
always did. Why can't people leave us in peace?"

Miss Martineau cleared her throat, looked with some compassion at
Jasmine, whom she thought it best to treat as a spoilt child, and then
turned her attention to Primrose.

"My dear," she said, "I am willing to waive my first head, to cast it