by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER X.
WAYS OF EARNING A LIVING.
That night, after her sisters were in bed, Primrose again sat uplate--once again she read her mother's letter; then burying her facein her hands, she sat for a long, long time lost in thought.
Jasmine and Daisy, all unconcerned and unconscious, slept overhead,but Hannah was anxious about her young mistress, and stepped into thedrawing-room, and said in her kind voice--
"Hadn't you better be getting your beauty sleep, missie?"
"Oh, Hannah! I am so anxious," said Primrose.
"Now, deary, whatever for?" asked the old servant.
Primrose hesitated. She wanted to talk to Hannah about her mother'sletter; she half took it out of her pocket, then she restrainedherself.
"Another time," she whispered to herself. Aloud she said--
"Hannah, Mrs. Ellsworthy and Miss Martineau hinted to me what Mr.Danesfield said plainly to-day--we three girls have not got moneyenough to live on."
"Eh, dear!" answered Hannah, dropping on to the nearest chair, "andare you putting yourself out about that, my pretty? Why, tisn't likelythat you three young ladies could support yourselves. Don't you fretabout that, Miss Primrose; why, you'll get quite old with fretting,and lose all your nice looks. You go to bed, my darling--there's aProvidence over us, and he'll find ways and means to help you."
Primrose rose to her feet, some tears came to her eyes, and takingHannah's hard old hand, she stooped and kissed her.
"I won't fret, Hannah," she said, "and I'll go to bed instantly. Thankyou for reminding me about God." Then she lit her bedroom candle andwent very gently up the stairs to her bedroom, but as she laid herhead on the pillow she said to herself--"Even Hannah sees that wecan't live on our income."
The next morning early Primrose said rather abruptly to her twosisters--
"I have found out the meaning of Miss Martineau's fussiness and Mrs.Ellsworthy's kindness. They are both sorry for us girls, for they knowwe can't live on thirty pounds a year."
"Oh, what nonsense!" said Jasmine; "any one can live on thirty poundsa year. Didn't you see how Poppy opened her eyes when we mentionedit;--she thought it quite a lot of money, and said we could come toLondon out of the savings. I am sure, Primrose, if any one ought toknow, it is Poppy, for her mother is really very poor."
"Mr. Danesfield, too, says we can't live on it," continued Primrose;"and when I asked Hannah last night, she said 'Of course not'--that noone expected us to. Now look here, Jasmine, this is all quite fresh toyou and Daisy, but I'm accustomed to it, for I have known it fortwenty-four hours, and what I say is this, if we can't live on ourincome we have got to make some more income to live on. If thirtypounds a year is not enough for us at the end, neither is it enoughfor us at the beginning, so we had better see about earning an incomeat once, or we'll get into debt, which will be quite awful. Jasmine, Iam afraid the days of our merry childhood are over, and I am so sorryfor you and Daisy, for you are both very young."
"Oh, I don't mind," said Jasmine--"I--I--I'd do anything--I fancy Icould make dresses best, or--Oh, suppose I wrote poetry, and sold it?You know you and Daisy do like my poems. Do you remember how you criedover the one I called 'An Ode to the Swallow?'"
"No, I didn't cry over that one," interrupted Daisy. "I thought thatone rather stupid--I cried over the one in which you spoke about mydarling Pink being caught in a trap, and having her leg broken."
"Oh, that one," repeated Jasmine--"I thought that one a little vulgar.I only made it up to please you, Daisy. Primrose, don't you noticewhat a lot of poems there are in all the magazines, and of course,somebody must write them. I should not be a bit surprised if I couldadd to our income by writing poetry, Primrose. All the books, nearlyall the magazines and newspapers, come from London. Poppy will not begoing to London until to-morrow--I'll run round this morning and askher to try and find out for me which of the publishers want poems likemy 'Ode to the Swallow.' Perhaps they'd like it in the ---- _Review_;only the ---- _Review_ is so horribly deep. My ode is deep too, forDaisy cannot understand it. Perhaps I could send my poem about Pink toone of the other magazines. Oh, Primrose! may I run round to Poppy,and see if she can help us?"
Primrose smiled very faintly, and it dawned across her again in rathera painful manner what a mere child her little sister was.
"I think I wouldn't, darling," she said. "Poppy could not really helpyou about publishers. Look here, Jasmine and Daisy; here is a letter Ifound in mamma's cabinet yesterday--it is directed to me, but the newsit contains is for us all; will you and Daisy go out into the gardenand read it together. You will be very much astonished when you readthe letter--poor mamma, what she must have suffered! While you arereading I will go out. Mr. Danesfield says I may consult him, and as Iknow he is a wise man, I will do so."
"Would you like to take my ode with you?" inquired Jasmine.
"No, not to-day, dear--if I am not in to dinner, don't wait for me."
"I know one thing; we'll be very saving about that dinner," remarkedJasmine, shaking back her curly locks. "If you are not in, Primrose,Daisy and I will divide an egg between us--I read somewhere that eggswere very nourishing, and half a one each will do fine. Come into thegarden now, Eyebright. Oh, Primrose! I don't feel a bit low aboutadding to our income. If we choose we can eat so very little, andthen if the ---- _Review_ likes my poetry, I can spin it off by theyard."