The Palace Beautiful | Page 7

least just what Jasmine says, and stay on quietly here."
Miss Martineau cleared her throat again.
"My dear girl," she said, "even to live here you must have something to
live on. Now, are you aware that your mother's annuity as a captain's
widow ceases with her death? I believe something very trifling will still
be allowed to you, as his orphans, but on that point I'm rather in the
dark."
"Mother always did get ten pounds a year apiece for us," said Primrose.
"Well, yes, my dear, we will suppose, and trust, and hope that that
small sum will still be continued; but even at Rosebury you three girls
cannot live on thirty pounds a year."
"But there is the money in the bank," said Jasmine speaking in a more
interested tone. "You remember Primrose dear, how whenever mother

wanted some money she just wrote a cheque, and we took it down to
Mr. Danesfield, and he gave us nice shining gold for it. Sometimes it
was ten pounds, sometimes it was five pounds, and sometimes it was
only two pounds; but whenever we went to Mr. Danesfield's bank with
mother's cheque he gave us the money. I suppose, Primrose, you can
have a cheque-book now, and Mr. Danesfield can give you the money."
"Yes," said Primrose, in a cheerful tone, "I forgot about the money in
the bank; mother often told me there was plenty. Even if we can't quite
live on our thirty pounds a year, we can manage with what money dear
mamma had in the bank."
Miss Martineau's face had become extremely lined and anxious.
"My dears," she said, "I fear I've done a rude thing; I fear I've taken a
liberty; but the fact is, you are so alone, poor darlings, and Mr.
Danesfield is an old friend of mine--and--and--I took the liberty of
asking him what your mother's balance was. He said, my dears--my
poor dears--that it was not quite two hundred pounds."

CHAPTER IV
.
TO THE RESCUE.
Miss Martineau told her news with considerable agitation. She
considered it a terrible revelation. It seemed to her a very fearful and
disastrous thing that three girls brought up like the Mainwarings, three
girls still almost children, should be thrown on the world without any
means for their support.
Simple and primitive as their lives had been at Rosebury, they still had
been tenderly nurtured and warmly sheltered--no cold blast of
unkindness or neglect had visited them--they had been surrounded ever
by both love and respect. The love came principally from their mother
and from one another, but the respect came from all who knew them.
The Mainwaring girls, in their plain dresses and with their
unsophisticated manners, looked like ladies, and invariably acted as
such.
Soon after making her communication Miss Martineau took her leave;
she hurried home, and sitting down in her dingy little parlor, began to
think.

"No, thank you, Susan," she said to her little maid-of-all-work, "I shan't
want any supper to-night. I have been at tea with my dear pupils, the
Misses Mainwaring. You may bring the lamp presently, Susan, but not
quite yet; it is a pity to waste the daylight, and there is quite another
quarter of an hour in which I can see to knit. Yes, give me my
knitting-basket; I can get on with Widow Joseph's mittens."
"And, if you please, ma'am," asked Susan, lingering for a moment at
the door, "may I ask how, all things considering, the dear young ladies
is?"
"On the whole, tranquil, Susan--yes, I may say it with confidence; my
dear pupils may be considered in a resigned state of mind."
Susan closed the door after her, and Miss Martineau took up her
knitting. Knitting woollen mittens is an occupation which harmonizes
very well with reflection and while the old lady's active fingers moved
her thoughts were busy.
"Thirty pounds a year," she said softly to herself, "thirty pounds certain,
and a lump sum of two hundred in the bank. Doubtless they owe some
of that for their mother's funeral and their own mourning. They
probably owe quite thirty pounds of that, and to make it safe, I had
better say forty. That leaves a balance of one hundred and sixty; just
enough to put away for emergencies, illness, and so forth. My dear girls,
my dear Primrose, and Jasmine, and my pretty little pet Daisy, you
cannot touch your little capital; you may get a few pounds a year for it,
or you may not--Mr. Danesfield must decide that--but all the money
you can certainly reckon on for your expenses is thirty pounds per
annum, and on that you cannot live."
Here Miss Martineau threw down her knitting, and began with some
agitation to pace up and down her tiny