"Look here, Primrose," he said: "I am an old bachelor, and I don't
know half nor a quarter the ways in which a woman may earn her living.
I have always been told that a woman is a creature of resources. Now
it is a well-known fact that an old bachelor has no resources. You go
and put your question to Miss Martineau, my dear. Miss Martineau is a
kind soul--'pon my word, now, a very kind soul--and she has managed
wonderfully to exist herself on absolutely nothing. You go to Miss
Martineau, Primrose, and get some secrets from her. Everything in my
power you may depend on my doing. I will exert my interest, and my
purse is at your service."

Here Primrose got up.

"Good-bye, Mr. Danesfield," she said. "I know you mean to be very
kind, but we three must keep together, and we must be independent."
Then she left the office, and went again down the street.

Mr. Danesfield looked after her as she walked away.

"Poor, proud young thing!" he said to himself. "Life will be a
tussle for her, or I am much mistaken. She is really growing
wonderfully nice-looking, too. How she flushed up when I said she
was presentable--poor child! poor child! That mother of theirs
might have done something to provide for those girls--lady-like
girls--distinguished-looking. I expect the mother was a weak, poor
soul. Well, I hope Miss Martineau will think of something. I must call
and see Miss Martineau; 'pon my word I don't know what to suggest for
the children to do."

When Primrose arrived at Miss Martineau's, that lady was just