ith me to her house now, and see what you can
do? She will provide you with the flowers and the glasses to put them
into, and you can arrange them on the table just as you like best. She
will give you a guinea for the work, and I think you will find it
light and pleasant."

Jasmine's eyes began to sparkle.

"Oh! at another time it would be delightful," she said.

"But don't you want a guinea very badly now? Don't you think you had
better put on your hat and come away with me, and try to earn it?"

"I will," said Jasmine, with sudden enthusiasm. "Oh, Mr. Noel, how
good you are! How I wish I had a brother, and that you were he!"

Noel took Jasmine to his friend's house, where the little girl began
by being almost frightened, but soon forgot herself in the strong
interest of her pleasant work. Noel was right when he said Jasmine had
true artistic instincts. Certainly, hers was untaught genius, but her
unerring taste came to her aid, and Mrs. Daintree's dinner-table never
looked prettier or fresher than when the little maiden had completed
her work. The room was bright and sunny, but Jasmine gave the table a
bower-like and cool effect, and she not only dressed the dinner-table
but placed flowers here and there about the room. Mrs. Daintree was
delighted, and asked the pretty little girl to come again to arrange a
dinner-table for her the following week.

With her golden sovereign and her shilling tucked tightly away in her
glove Jasmine did not feel altogether miserable as she went home; even
though Daisy might still be lost, those first earnings were sweet. She
rushed upstairs and told her tale to Poppy, who sympathized most
warmly with her. Very soon after her arrival a four-wheeler was heard
to draw up to the door, and Mrs. Dredge alone returned.

"I have left Primrose at Rosebury," she said; "we have made inquiries,
and there is no doubt a child resembling Daisy went down by the night
train yesterday. We have searched high and low, however, but cannot at
present get any trace of her. Don't look so pale, Jasmine, she must
soon be found. Primrose is staying with Miss Martineau, and they are
not leaving a stone unturned to find her. Most likely they have done
so by now. Don't cry, Jasmine; take example by your sister--she's a
fine plucky bit of a lass, and does not waste her time in tears when
there's something to be done."

"Yes, that's just it," said Jasmine; Primrose has got something to do,
but I haven't--I ca