an to dance about, and to say, softly--

"Oh! this is too delightful! You darling Mrs. Ellsworthy, you are
beginning to approve of our scheme. Oh, yes; I know you are, although
you were too proud to say so. Now, is it not a little bit wrong of you
to be proud after the way you lectured Primrose? Well, Primrose, shall
we go to Mrs. Moore? I don't know anything about Kensington, but I
suppose it is as good as any other place. I don't suppose, either, a
pound a week is too much for the three of us. Shall we go to Mrs.
Moore, Primrose?"

Daisy also joined her voice in favor of going to Mrs. Ellsworthy's
friend, and after all, but for that obstinate young person Primrose,
the good little lady might have had her way, but Primrose, although
she was quite ignorant of fashionable localities or of any London
expenses, was very firm, very firm indeed, when she made up her mind.

"It is most kind of you to call and say all this to us," she answered.
"Oh, yes, we would come if we had not quite decided on an altogether
different plan. That being the case we cannot go to Mrs. Moore--thank
you so much."

When Jasmine heard her sister speak her face first fell and then
brightened up considerably. "How stupid of me to forget!" she said.
"Oh, yes, we have made a lovely plan, and of course we could not go to
anybody whom anybody knew. Oh, no, of course not. I cannot think how I
came to forget."

Again Mrs. Ellsworthy tried persuasion and even entreaty, but again
she had to own herself vanquished by that most obstinate girl
Primrose. "I really cannot make out why I care for them all," she said
to herself as she drove away. "I do care for them, poor children! I
would do anything to help them, but I am simply not allowed. Well,
Primrose, no doubt you would be a great trial to me if you were my
daughter; I could never bear obstinate characters, and yet to a
certain extent I admire you."

Miss Martineau also made up her mind to forgive these naughty girls,
and to give them the benefit of her most sapient counsel. She too
wrote a private letter to a London friend, and arrived at Woodbine
Cottage primed with what she considered valuable information. "Now, my
dears, you must go to Shepherd's Bush--that is the place, and the only
place where you can live within your means. My friend Constantia
Warren has rooms there, and she says--I have written to her, my
loves--she says if you will let her accompany you in your search she
may be able to s