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.
"There are two sheets more, quite full of writing--shall I read them
aloud to you and Daisy?"
But Primrose had not got over the excitement which was growing within
her all day; she took the letter out of Jasmine's hands, folded it,
and returned it to its envelope.
"I must speak," she said; "we can finish that letter afterwards--the
letter does not greatly matter, after all. Do you know, Jasmine, and
do you know, Daisy, that these people who all mean to be so kind, and
who, I suppose, really feel good-natured towards us, are trying to
take our lives into their own hands? They are not our guardians, but
they want to rule us--they say we cannot live on our income, and they
will show us how we are to live.
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