"Poppy, dear, I have not brought the one and sixpence."
"Oh, it don't matter," said Poppy. "One and sixpence never fretted me
yet, and it ain't going to begin. You'll pay me when you can, Miss
Jasmine, and there ain't no hurry."
But Jasmine noticed that Poppy moved her little feet out of sight, and
in spite of her brave words Jasmine observed a look of dismay creeping
into her bright eyes.
This slight action on Poppy's part--this little lurking gleam of
disappointment--were as the proverbial last straw to poor Jasmine. Her
fortitude gave way, and she burst into the bitterest tears she had
ever shed.
Poppy was much alarmed, and stood over her dear little lady, and
brought her cold water, and tried to comfort her by every means in her
power.
When Jasmine had a little recovered herself she told the whole bitter
story of her morning's adventure to Poppy. That young person's
indignation knew no bounds.
"The editor must be put in prison," she said; "he must be caught and
put in prison. Mrs. Jones the charwoman has a second cousin once
removed, whose first cousin is married to a policeman, and Mrs. Jones
is coming here to-morrow, and I'll get her to see her second cousin,
and the second cousin shall see her first cousin who is married to a
policeman, and he will tell us what is to be done.
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