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.

Mr.Danesfield will give money, if needed; Miss Martineau will give us heaps and oceans of advice; and Mrs.Ellsworthy will give patronage, and perhaps money too.