curious coincidence, but
neither am I alone--I have brought a little lad here to show him the
cathedral--he has gone into the Whispering Gallery, and I am waiting
for him. Perhaps your friends have also gone into the gallery. While
we are both waiting, shall we look round this delightful place? and
may I tell you a little of what I know about it?"

It was in this manner, and apparently quite by accident, that Jasmine
made the acquaintance of Arthur Noel, who turned out to be one of the
best friends the girls were to make in London. Mr. Noel had taken a
fancy to Jasmine's sweet little face, and Jasmine, when she met with a
sympathetic listener, could be only too communicative. Before Miss
Slowcum and her sisters and Poppy joined them Mr. Noel knew something
of Jasmine's ambitions and of Primrose's modest hopes. Jasmine had
even confided to him the brave resolve the three sisters had made not
to sigh, or grumble, or wear themselves out with useless tears. He was
very kind, although he could not be persuaded to say that he thought
Primrose's scheme a wise one, but this chance encounter might never
have led to anything further but for a little coincidence which shows
what a small place the world is, after all. When Primrose and Daisy,
Poppy and the sedate Miss Slowcum, joined Jasmine, as she stood with
her companion examining Nelson's monument, they were accompanied by a
handsome, bright-faced boy, who ran up to Mr. Noel, and linked his
hand within his arm. This boy turned out to be young Frank Ellsworthy,
and, as the girls all exclaimed on hearing the name, Mr. Noel assured
them that the Ellsworthys were his greatest friends--that he loved
Mrs. Ellsworthy almost as if she were his own mother.

"I felt that I must speak to you," he said to Jasmine. "I cannot tell
you why nor wherefore, but your face seemed familiar--I did not think
you would turn out to be an absolute stranger."

Thus the girls made a very valuable acquaintance; nevertheless, owing
to circumstances, it was many a long day before they met Arthur Noel
again.

CHAPTER XIX.

A BRIGHT DAY.

Last times are always sad to write about and think about, but first
times are generally pleasant. Notwithstanding a certain sense of
disappointment which certainly did assail the three girls on their
entrance into London, notwithstanding the fact which Jasmine only too
quickly discovered, that the streets were not paved with gold, nor the
air replete with prom