Jasmine was in all particulars her opposite.

She was dark, with very bright and lovely eyes; her movements were quick, her expression full of animation, and when excited--and she was generally in a state of excitement--her words tumbled out almost too quickly for coherence.
Her cheeks would burn, and her eyes sparkle, over such trivial circumstances as a walk down a country lane, as blackberry-hunting, as strawberry-picking--a new story-book kept her awake half the night--she was, in short, a constant little volcano in this quiet home, and would have been an intolerable child but for the great sweetness of her temper, and also for the fact that every one more or less yielded to her.
Daisy was very pretty and fair--her hair was as yellow as Primrose's, but it curled, and was more or less always in a state of friz; her eyes were wide open and blue, and she was just a charming little child, partaking slightly of the qualities of both her elder sisters.
These girls had never had a care or an anxiety--when they were hungry they could eat, when they were tired sleep could lull them into dreamless rest--they had never seen any world but the narrow world of Rosebury, the name of the village where they lived.

Even romantic Jasmine thought that life at Rosebury, with perhaps a few more books and a few more adventures must form the sum and substance of her existence.

Of course there was a large world outside, but even Jasmine had not begun to long for it.
Primrose was sixteen, Jasmine between thirteen and fourteen, and Daisy ten, when a sudden break came to all this quiet and happy routine.
Mrs.Mainwaring without any warning or any leave-taking, suddenly died..