"Yes, dear, and Daisy shall have plenty of garden ground for fresh
seeds. Oh! my dear children," continued Mrs. Ellsworthy, "I shall be
so delighted to welcome you all to Shortlands, only I think you might
have replied to my letter."

Mrs. Ellsworthy was by this time seated in a low arm-chair by the
window, and Jasmine was standing before her, while Daisy sat demurely
on the floor, and folded up the anti-macassars.

"We might have answered your letter?" repeated Jasmine. "Well now, do
you know, to be quite frank and open, your letter was a little bit of
a lecture. You did give it to darling old Primrose, and somehow or
other you made Daisy cry. You spoke about a plan, and you said it was
a delightful plan, but--but before we read that part of your letter
Primrose thought of another plan of her own, and _it_ was so
exquisite, so perfect, that we tore up your plan for fear we should be
tempted by it. We don't know your plan, Mrs. Ellsworthy, and we don't
want it, for we have made our own, and ours is--yes, ours is lovely!"

Mrs. Ellsworthy had an expressive face, and while Jasmine was talking
it changed and grew anxious; her husband's words, "She is not our
Jasmine yet," returned to her. Like many rich and pretty women, she
was unaccustomed to opposition, and when it came it but whetted her
desire, and made her also feel irritable.

"It is rude to tear up the letters of kind friends," she said. "I made
a proposal which would have been in every way suitable to you girls,
and you did not even trouble yourselves to read it. No, my loves, I am
not angry. Daisy, come and give me a kiss; Jasmine, hold my hand. Now