Danesfield was not so busy this morning, and he saw his young
visitor without delay.
"Sit down, my dear," he said; "I am very pleased to see you. You want
to ask for my advice? I will give it with the greatest pleasure."
Primrose raised her head slowly. "I have been thinking over what you
said yesterday," she began. "As it is quite impossible for my sisters
and me to live on our little income, even with the help of what you
have in the bank, we must try to help ourselves, must we not?"
"This is a brave thought, my dear--of course you must help
yourselves, and you will be none the worse for doing so."
"We must earn money," continued Primrose. "How can girls like us, who
are not educated--for I know we are not _really_ educated--add to our
incomes?"
Mr. Danesfield knit his brows. "Child," he said, "you ask me a
puzzler. I have no children of my own, and I know very little about
young folk. Of one thing, however, I am quite certain; Daisy can earn
no money, nor can Jasmine. You, Primrose, might with some difficulty
get a little place as a nursery governess; you are a nice,
presentable-looking girl, my dear."
Primrose flushed, and the tears, wrung from great pain, came into her
eyes.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89