“All right, Poppy, we will certainly go to Madame Tussaud’s—­but you must not consider the first part of our day dull, dear Poppy—­it is business, certainly, but you don’t know what it means to me.  To-day, Poppy, I am about to take my first soaring flight.”

“Oh law!  Miss Jasmine—­I always knew you were clever, miss, and I suppose it is because I’m so worried in my business days that I’ve got that stupid that I can’t see no meaning at all in your words, miss.”

“All right, Poppy, you need not see any meaning in them—­all you have to do is to come with me, and look very grave and solemn, and say ‘Yes’ when I say ‘Yes,’ and shake your head and look stern when I do.  You are older than me, Poppy, and you are coming as a sort of chaperon.  Oh dear!  Poppy, I wish you would not wear that scarlet wing and those yellow flowers in your hat.”

“The cruellest of all the bitings,” whispered Poppy under her breath.  Aloud she said, in a meek but determined little voice—­

“That hat’s as it’s trimmed, Miss Jasmine, and must remain according, for it can’t be denuded in the street.”

“All right, Poppy.  Your own dear face looks sweet and home-like under it; now let us get into the very first omnibus, and find our way to the city.”

When the girls arrived within the sacred precincts of the far-famed Paternoster Row, Jasmine held her breath a little, and stood still while she eagerly considered as to which publishing house she should offer her wares.  Finally, she determined that her first pilgrimage should be to the editor of The Downfall, who had not yet returned or even written to her about her “Ode to Adversity.”

The office of The Downfall was not in Paternoster Row, but in a very narrow street adjoining, and Jasmine, followed by Poppy, plunged boldly down this narrow alley, and then up, and up, and up, and up the winding stairs to the editor’s office at the top of the house.

Jasmine had not been at all agreeably impressed by Mr. Rogers on the occasion of her former visit.  Unaccompanied by Poppy, she would scarcely have again ventured to approach him, but Poppy looked quite determined and resolute enough to give her little companion courage, and Jasmine’s childish voice was presently heard in the outer office demanding to see the editor.

It so happened that Mr. Rogers was not particularly engaged, for The Downfall was rapidly proving the truth of its title, and was having a very quick descent into an early and untimely grave—­consequently its editor had very little to do.

Mr. Rogers consented to see Miss Jasmine Mainwaring and her companion, and accordingly the two girls were ushered into the editorial presence.

Mr. Rogers commenced his interview with Miss Jasmine by apparently forgetting all about her.  This had a most disconcerting effect on the young author.

“But surely you must remember that I came to see you nearly three months ago, and brought you a poem called an ‘Ode to Adversity,’” pleaded Jasmine—­“we had rather a long talk about it; I don’t know how you can absolutely forget.”