r money down. There's
nothing so safe in clinching a bargain as money down. Oh, dear! I wish
I could go with you. And, Miss Jasmine, if you could find it
convenient to pay me back say one and sixpence of the little loan,
I'll be for ever obliged, darling."

At this moment Mrs. Flint's voice was heard calling Poppy, and
demanding who she was standing gossiping with. Mrs. Flint's voice
sounded quite sharp, and Jasmine guessed that something unusual must
have occurred to disturb her, for Mrs. Flint was known on principle
never to excite herself.

"What is the matter with her?" she inquired of Poppy, who flushed up
at her tones.

"Oh, nothing, miss. She's only a bit put out about the broken boots.
There, I must run."

Poppy almost shut the door in Jasmine's face. She was certainly very
unlike her usual self.

Jasmine walked down the steps of the Mansion, and slowly, very slowly,
went up the street to meet the omnibus which was to convey her
Citywards.

She was quite a clever little Londoner now, and knew which were the
right omnibuses to take, and, in short, how to find her way about
town. She hailed the City omnibus, and hastily and humbly took her
place amongst its crowded passengers. She was the unlucky twelfth, and
her advent was certainly not hailed with delight. The bright morning
had turned to rain, and the passengers, most of them women, were
wrapped up in waterproof cloaks. Jasmine, when she entered the
omnibus, looked so small, so timid, and unimportant, that no one
thought it worth while even to move for her, and at last she was
thankful to get a little pin-point of room between two very buxom
ladies, who both almost in the same breath desired her not to crowd
them, and both also fiercely requested her to keep her wet dress from
touching their waterproofs.

At another time Jasmine would have been quite spirited enough to
resent the unfriendly behavior of the inmates of the City 'bus; but
her interview with Poppy had depressed her greatly, and she had a kind
of terrified little fear that she knew the reason of Mrs. Flint's
sharp tones, that she could guess why Poppy's bright face should look
so dismal, and why she was obliged so earnestly to beg of her to
return her one and sixpence.

"She wants her own money--her wages, that she earned with a swimming
head and all," thought poor Jasmine. "How selfish of me not to
remember before that of course, poor Poppy would want her wages; it is
perfectly dreadfu