lilies on china plates, but you see,
Jasmine, this work has been sent to me--I think God sent it, and I
must not refuse it because perhaps I would like something else
better."

"That's bravely spoken, Primrose," said Miss Egerton who was sitting
by, for she often spent odd half-hours with the girls. "Look at
everything in the same spirit, my love; try to see God's hand in all
the little events, and you will have a brave life and a happy one."

"And a successful, I hope," added Jasmine. "Miss Egerton, how awful it
would be if we girls were to fail!"

"My Prince says," here interrupted Daisy, "that whenever we do a good
thing and a right thing, we bring something fresh and lovely into our
Palace Beautiful. Isn't it nice to think that dear old Primrose has
done this?"

"The money, too, will be of great help," added Primrose. "Why,
Jasmine, we may even be able to save a little."

Thus encouraged, Primrose commenced her duties, and though her throat
ached--and she certainly found the continual reading of politics,
interspersed with very sharp discussions on the part of Mrs. Mortlock,
anything but agreeable--she did not give way.

Miss Egerton was pleased to see Primrose so bright, and was glad to
know she was really earning something; and Jasmine and Daisy prepared
the cheeriest welcomes possible for her evening after evening on her
return.

Jasmine, however, by no means intended Primrose to be the only one who
was to bring assistance to the household purse.

Jasmine knew that they had all come up to London on purpose to be
educated, or to educate themselves, sufficiently to earn their
livings. She considered that six months' experience of the ups and
downs of London life might bear fruit in her case as well as in her
sister's.

Jasmine was supposed to be having her style formed by Miss Egerton's
daily tuitions, but Miss Egerton's words of encouragement over her
pupil's productions were decidedly meagre; and Jasmine, though she
loved her, had long ago confided to Daisy that she considered Miss
Egerton's manner had a damping effect on enthusiasm.

One bitterly cold March day Jasmine had been sitting for hours
scribbling away at her novel. Daisy petted the cat, looked over some
well-known picture-books, and finally sank back into the recesses of
one of the most comfortable chairs in the room and began to think
about the Prince.

"Don't go to sleep, Daisy," called out Jasmine presently. "I'm coming
over in a mi