Still, she had a resource which her
sisters had forgotten, and which, luckily for her, Dove knew nothing
at all about--she still had that letter of Mr. Danesfield's. She had
never opened it, but she always kept it safely locked up in her trunk.
Not for worlds would she yet break the seal--no, no, this letter was
meant for an hour of great need. Primrose fondly and proudly hoped
that that dark and dreadful hour would never approach and that, having
won success, she and her sisters might yet return the letter unopened
to its kind donor. In these dark days before Christmas she kept up her
heart, and worked hard at her china-painting, achieving sufficient
success and power over her art to enable her to produce some pretty,
but, alas! as yet unsaleable articles. Mr. Jones, her master, assured
her, however, that her goods must ere long find a market, and she
struggled on bravely.
Perhaps, on the whole, Jasmine was more tried by her present life than
her sister. Jasmine's was a more highly-strung temperament; she could
be more easily depressed and more easily elated--hers was the kind of
nature which pours forth its sweetest and best in sunshine; did the
cold blasts of adversity blow too keenly on this rather tropical
little flower, then no expansion would come to the beautiful blossoms,
and the young life would fail to fulfil its promise.
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