The Palace Beautiful | Page 5

violent grief on the part of its inmates--the blinds were drawn up, not
quite to the top, for that would have been ugly, and Jasmine was full of
artistic instincts, but they were drawn up to let in plenty of sunlight, the
white muslin curtains were draped gracefully, some pots of fresh
flowers could be seen on the window-ledge, and a canary in a rather
battered cage hung from a hook above, and disported himself cheerfully
in the sunlight.
Miss Martineau was very old-fashioned in her ideas, and she did not
much like the look of the bay window.
She comforted herself, however, with the reflection that even under the
direst afflictions blinds must be drawn up some time, and that she
would doubtless find the poor dear girls in a state of tempestuous grief
within. She imagined herself soothing Jasmine, holding Primrose's

hand, and allowing Daisy to sit on her knee. Miss Martineau was most
kind-hearted, and would have done anything for the three girls, whom
she dearly loved, only, like many another good-hearted person, she
would wish to do that anything or something in her own way.
"Good evening, Hannah," she said, as the old cook opened the door;
"you have had a sad affliction--a terrible affliction. I hope the dear
young ladies are--" Miss Martineau paused for a word, then she
said--"tranquil."
"Oh yes, miss," answered Hannah. "Walk in, please, Miss
Martineau--this way--the young ladies is hoping you'll take a cup of tea
with them, miss." Miss Martineau found herself the next instant in one
of the most cheerful sitting-rooms to be found at Rosebury--it had
always been a pretty room--furnished daintily with the odds and ends
of rich and choice furniture which had belonged to Mrs. Mainwaring in
her wealthy days. Now it was bright with flowers, and the western sun
poured in at one angle of the wide bay window. The three girls, in their
very simple black dresses, with no crape, came forward in a little group
to meet her. In their hearts they were slightly excited and upset, but
rather than give way they put on an air of extra cheerfulness. Miss
Martineau, fond as she was of them, felt absolutely scandalized--to
keep her out of the house for a whole month, and then to admit her in
this fashion--such a lot of sunlight--such a heap of flowers, no crape on
the black dresses, and Jasmine's face quite bright and her hair as curly
as usual. Miss Martineau began a little set speech, but Jasmine
interrupted her.
"Do come, and have some tea," she said. "Primrose has made some
delicious cream-cakes, and we are all so hungry, aren't we, Eyebright?"
turning to her little sister as she spoke.
"Yes," replied Daisy; "Pink is hungry, too--I chased Pink about fifty
times round the garden, and she's quite starving. May Pink have some
cream in a saucer for her tea, Primrose?"
Primrose nodded, took Miss Martineau's hand, and led her to the place
of honor at the table, and sitting down herself, began to pour out the
fragrant tea.
If Miss Martineau had a weakness, it was for really good tea and for
cream-cakes. She took off her gloves now, arranged her bonnet-strings,
put back her veil, and prepared to enjoy herself. Instead of talking

common-place condolences, she chatted on little matters of local
interest with the sisters. Jasmine took care to supply Miss Martineau
with plenty of cream-cakes--Primrose saw that her cup was well
replenished. Miss Martineau was poor and very saving, and it occurred
to her, as she partook of the Mainwaring's nice tea, that she might do
without much supper by-and-by. This reflection put her into an
excellent humor.
When the tea was over Primrose led her to a comfortable seat by the
window.
"My dear," she said, "it is well that I should sit just here, within full
view of the street?--your window is, well, a little too like seeing
company, my loves, and if my bonnet is seen by passers-by you'll have
everybody calling directly."
"Oh, we mean to see everybody now," said Jasmine "we--we--we think
it best, don't we, Primrose?"
"Yes," said Primrose, in her gentle tones. "It does not make us think
less of dear mamma to see people--and--and--we have decided to go on
much as usual now."
"You might have admitted me before, dears," replied Miss
Martineau--"I felt so intensely for you--I could never get you out of my
head. I was a good deal hurt by your refusing to admit me, my dear
girls, for in all respects I would have wished to be a mother to you."
"Please, don't," said Jasmine.
"We _couldn't_ have another mother," said little Daisy, clinging close
to Primrose, and looking up into her sister's sweet face.
Primrose stooped and kissed her.
"You