r every conceivable
sort of accomplishment. Oh, Joseph, we shall have our Jasmine yet, as
our very own."

Mr. Ellsworthy smiled, kissed his wife, patted her on the cheek, told
her to do just what she liked, and went downstairs to his beloved
books. But Mrs. Ellsworthy's excitement kept her on thorns for the
greater part of the evening.

That night she dreamt of the Mainwarings; dreamt that she saw Daisy's
piteous little face when she was turned away from her gates; dreamt
again a brighter dream, that Jasmine had her arms round her neck, and
was calling her mother; that Primrose, with none of her sweet dignity
abated, was smiling at her, and saying gratefully, "I accept your
kindness; I will gladly take your money; I will come and live with you
at Shortlands, and be to you as a daughter." And Daisy was saying, in
that funny little sententious voice of hers which she sometimes used,
"Weren't we all naughty, and aren't we good now, and is it not a good
thing that our pride should have a fall?"

Mrs. Ellsworthy sighed deeply when she awoke from this beautiful
dream.

"It was but a dream," she said to herself, and she went downstairs
sadly and soberly to her breakfast.

Mr. Ellsworthy had breakfasted at a much earlier hour, and the little
lady had her beautifully-appointed table to herself.

"Now, if the girls were all here," she thought, "how pleasant and
cheerful it would be! Primrose should sit just opposite to me, and
pour out the coffee; she would do it very nicely and deftly, and would
look so sweet and daughterly. And Jasmine--little witch!--I do not
suppose she would keep the same seat two mornings running, and I
should have to tell her over and over not to jump up every moment to
rush to the window. Daisy would sit near me, and, of course, I should
have to have a special chair made for that funny kitten of hers. I
would dress the three girls in white--white is so sweet for girls--and
how Jasmine and Daisy would chatter; their voices are very sweet in
tone, and they never talk too fast, so as to make one's head ache. I
often fancy I hear Jasmine talking to me now, her voice is so
bright--and--oh, dear! is not that very like her voice? Who is that
asking for me in the hall? Surely, surely, it must be Jasmine
Mainwaring. No other voice that I know has such a ring about it."

Mrs. Ellsworthy half rose from her seat, half sat down again, and the
color of eager anticipation flushed her cheeks.

The eager voice