earn your livings. May I help you to find a way to put bread into your
mouths? I have thought it all out, and I think I know a plan. If you
will agree to it, you may keep your independence, Primrose; Jasmine
may be developed into the kind of woman God meant her to become; and
little Daisy need not fear the rude blasts of adverse fate."

Here Daisy, who only partly understood the letter, burst into tears,
and Primrose, taking her in her arms, allowed the closely written
sheets to fall on the floor.

"I know what it means," she exclaimed, speaking with sudden fire and
passion; "the same thing has been said to me by two different people
already to-day. Mr. Danesfield said it after his fashion, Miss
Martineau after hers, and now Mrs. Ellsworthy repeats the words. Oh,
yes, I know what it means--separation--I will _never_ consent to it!"

Jasmine had been kneeling on the floor and picking up the scattered
sheets of Mrs. Ellsworthy's letter; she now raised her eyes in utter
astonishment to her elder sister's face. Primrose was not accustomed
to giving utterance to strong feelings. Primrose's words were wont to
be calm and somewhat measured. Jasmine knew that she herself flew into
tempests of grief, or anger, or excitement--she was always being
chided for not restraining her feelings--she was always being gently
lectured for using too strong expressions. What did Primrose mean by
throwing down this kind though somewhat mysterious, letter, and by
making use of so ghastly a word as "separation?" Who was going to
divide them? Certainly not kind Mrs. Ellsworthy.

"Had we not better hear what she says, even though you don't seem
quite to like her, Primrose?" asked Jasmine, holding up the sheets.