o unknown beset her. Suppose, after all, _The Joy-bell_ which
contained the first portion of her story had not had a large success;
suppose, after all, the public were not so delighted with her flowing
words. Perhaps the editor would receive her very coldly, and would
tell her what a loss her story had been, and how indisposed he felt to
go on with it. If this was the case she never, never would have
courage to ask him to give her Poppy's wages. If the editor scolded
her she felt that she would be incapable of saying a word in her own
defence. Nay, she thought it extremely probable that then and there
she would burst into tears. Undoubtedly, she was in a very low frame
of mind to-day. She, as well as Poppy, had her low fit on, and she
greatly trembled for the result of the coming interview. Since that
pathetic little last speech of Poppy's about her broken boots Jasmine
had quite forgotten how sorely she needed money for herself. Her one
and only desire just now was to restore Poppy's money.

"I must do it," she said to herself; "I must do it, and I will. I have
made up my mind, and I really need not be so frightened. After all,
Poppy and Daisy are both quite sure that I am a genius. Daisy says
that I have got the face of a genius, and Poppy was in such great,
great delight at my story. It is not likely that they would both be
wrong, and Poppy is a person of great discernment. I must cheer up and
believe what they told me. I daresay Poppy is right, and London is
half-flooded with my story. Ah, here I am at the entrance of the court
where the editor of _The Joy-bell_ lives. How funny it is to be here
all alone. I really feel quite like a heroine. Now I am at the
office--how queer, how very queer--I do not see any _Joy-bells_
pressed up against the window. No, not a single one; there are lots of
other books and papers, but no _Joy-bells_. Dear, dear! my heart does
beat, for I am thinking that perhaps Poppy is right, and that all the
copies of _The Joy-bells_ are bought up; that, of course, is on
account of my story." Then Jasmine entered the house, and went into a
little office where a red-haired boy was sitting on a high stool
before a dirty-looking desk. The boy had a facetious and rather
unpleasant face, and was certainly not remarkable for good manners.

"I want to see the editor of _The Joy-bell_," asked Jasmine, in as
firm a tone as she could command.

The red-haired boy raised his eyes from a huge ledger which he