great pity for people to try to make us discontented. I think it was
ill-bred of Miss Martineau to mention our private affairs to you; but
still, as we have got to know you through these means, I forgive her.
You are a very delightful friend. Mrs. Ellsworthy, I think you must
let us go home now--Daisy is not accustomed to being up so late."

"Of all the tiresome, hard-to-be-understood young people I ever came
across, Primrose Mainwaring beats them," thought Mrs. Ellsworthy to
herself; but aloud she said very sweetly--

"Yes, dear--and you shall drive home in the carriage I could not hear
of your walking."




CHAPTER VIII.

THIRTY POUNDS A YEAR.


Miss Ellsworthy thought Primrose both tiresome and obtuse, but here
she was mistaken.

Miss Martineau's solemn looks, Mr. Danesfield's emphatic injunctions
to make the most of their visit to Shortlands, and, above all, the
expression of deep distress on Mrs. Ellsworthy's charming face when
she spoke of their poverty, were by no means thrown away on her.

She felt very grave as the three sisters were driven home in the