CHAPTER XXXVI.
_THE JOY-BELL_.
It is to be feared that Poppy stole away from her work that morning.Poor Poppy was getting into a sadly defiant mood. She was gettingthoroughly tired of her aunt, Mrs. Flint, and when Jasmine appearedand said a few coaxing words the naughty girl left her work undone,disregarded the many cries for Sarah Ann and Sarah Maria, and puttingon her brilliant hat and her smart jacket, sallied forth citywardswith Jasmine and Daisy. In due time the three reached the office of_The Joy-bell_ and were admitted into the presence of the editor.
"You musn't let me accept too low terms, Poppy," said Jasmine, as theywere going in at the door.
Poppy nodded very brightly in reply, and Jasmine took the seat theeditor offered her with a certain little air of modest elation.
"I got your note," she began, "and I thought you'd like to see meimmediately, so I came. This is my sister; she knows all about it;she's in the story herself. I've drawn all my characters from thelife; and my friend, Poppy Jenkins--you saw her a fortnight ago--she'sin the book too."
The editor--Mr. Potter was his name--had a habit of waving his handwhen anything that he considered superfluous was being said; he nowwaved both Daisy and Poppy into the background, and addressed himselfto Jasmine in a style which, as she said afterwards, riveted herattention on the spot.
"I wrote to you, Miss Mainwaring," he said, "because I saw germs ofpromise in your composition--it is young, of course, for you are veryyoung, but it is fresh, and with due correctness, which I myself amwilling to supply, I do not see why 'The Pursuit of Happiness' shouldnot appear in our journal. We publish, however, only under certainconditions, and before I make any offer for your writings I shouldlike to know whether you are able to fulfil them."
"That sounds in the nature of a bargain," here burst from Poppy'slips. "Now, Miss Jasmine, please will you listen very sharp, and seewhat the gentleman is after? Bargains seem to me to be all in favor ofthem that makes them. Aunt Flint made a bargain with me, and, oh my! Ithought it good enough to leave the country and come up to a townwhose name is wanity. Nothing have I got, Miss Jasmine, from my shareof the bargain but a swimming head and the name of Sarah!"
"If this young person will cease to interrupt us," proceeded theeditor, in his blandest tones.
"Oh, yes; Poppy, please stop talking," said Jasmine. "I beg yourpardon, sir; I only wanted Poppy to help me when we came to terms. Wehave not come to the money part yet, dear Poppy. Yes, sir, I am mostanxious to listen to you."
"Well, Miss Mainwaring, the facts are these--yes, I fear it is aquestion of money, after all. _The Joy-bell_ is a new magazine; we aremost anxious to extend its circulation by every means in our power. Wehave hit on what we consider a novel, but effective expedient. Eachcontributor to our pages is expected to subscribe for a hundred copiesper month of our magazine--these copies he is asked to disseminate aswidely as possible amongst his friends. The magazine is only sixpencea month. Of course you get your friends to take the copies off yourhands. Your story will, I think, run for six months--you are reallyput to no expense, for, of course, you must know a hundred people whowill gladly take a magazine in which you appear. Thus you gain theadvantage of having your story widely read and published not at yourown expense."
"But please--" began Jasmine.
"If I might speak who am brought here for the purpose," here burstfrom Poppy, "what pay is the young lady to have for the words ofgenius that she has wrote upon the paper? Yes, Miss Jasmine, you saidI was to let my voice be heard here--I'm not afraid, not of nobody,and here, I puts down my foot, and I says, 'What's the pay?'"
"The pay?" echoed the editor. "Surely the young lady does not expectto be paid for anything so very amateur--no, she cannot expect to bepaid in money--in another way she is paid, and largely; she obtains areputation, and what immature talent she has is brought to the fore! Iam afraid, Miss Mainwaring, I must not take up any more of yourvaluable time--I think I have explained myself quite clearly--do youaccept my offer? If you are willing to become a subscriber for onehundred copies monthly of _The Joy-bell_ your story shall appear; ifnot, I must return you your MS. with regret."
Poor Jasmine's white little face grew piteous.
"Oh, Poppy!" she began.
"Do you want it, Miss Jasmine?" said Poppy. "I calls it a cheat; butdo you want it?"
"Oh, dear Poppy, I thought my words would look so lovely in Print--Iam disappointed!"
"Then you shan't be, Miss Jasmine, darling. Here, sir, you're anotherof the Aunt Flint tribe, but my darling Miss Jasmine shall not lookas she does now if I can prevent it. Please, sir, will you look inthis here little purse given to you by the honest hand of toil, andsee if it contains the price of a hundred of those nasty _Joy-bells_.There's my three months' wage in that purse, sir, so I expect it willprove sufficient."
The editor opened the little purse gingerly.
"Do you wish your friend to subscribe for you?" he asked, looking atJasmine. "I will allow you to have the first instalment at areduction. The full price for a hundred copies of _The Joy-bell_ atsixpence a copy will be, of course, fifty shillings. On this occasionyou shall have these delivered to you at your residence for forty-fiveshillings."
"It's in the purse, sir," said Poppy, with an air of modest pride."Forty-five shillings, and fifteen shillings over, for my wage withAunt Flint comes exactly to three pounds a quarter. The fifteenshillings will find me in boots and house shoes, Miss Jasmine; and asmy 'at is fresh trimmed, and I have enough cotton dresses to go onwith, you are more than welcome to the two pound five."
"We will arrange it so, then," said the editor. "Miss Mainwaring, youmust give me your address, and you shall receive proofs in a day ortwo. This sum of money provides for the appearance of the firstinstalment of your story. From the sale of the hundred copies you willbe provided with funds for the second instalment, and so on."
"But how am I to pay Poppy back if I must give you the money that Iget for the magazines?" asked Jasmine, her face becoming more crimsoneach moment.
"Ah! that," said the editor, with a slightly sarcastic smile, "that issurely not my affair."
After this a few comparatively trivial arrangements were made. Jasminegave the address of the Palace Beautiful to Mr. Potter, and walkeddownstairs, feeling excited, pleased, and disappointed.
"Oh, Poppy!" she said, "how light, how very light your purse is."
"No, Miss Jasmine," answered Poppy, "you're out altogether there, forfifteen shillings in silver weighs more than three pounds in gold.It's my heart, not my purse, that's light, Miss Jasmine--it has doneme a sight of good to help you, Miss Jasmine; I know he is a cheat inthere, but never mind, when your pretty, beautiful tale appearsthere'll be a run on it, I think, and that _Joy-bell_ will be askedfor high and low. You'll pay me back, never fear, and I'll be realproud to my dying day to feel that I was the first to help you."
That evening, as Jasmine and Daisy sat together waiting for Primroseto return, Daisy said suddenly--
"Did you soar to-day, Jasmine, when you took Poppy's wages to haveyour story printed?--was that what you call a soaring flight?"
Daisy spoke innocently, and with real desire for information, but ather words Jasmine covered her face and burst into tears.
"What a cruel remark, Eyebright," she said. "Do you know I'm quitemiserable about this; I've been getting more and more wretched eversince I left that man's office. Suppose, Daisy, I don't sell a hundredcopies of _The Joy-bell_; then I shall never be able to have any moreof my story printed, and I shall never have it in my power to payPoppy back. I think I must have yielded to temptation that time;perhaps I'm nothing but a vain little girl, and think myself clevererthan I am."
"Oh, I'm sure you're a genius, Jasmine," said Daisy. "I know, for Ihave studied your face a great deal; in the story-books I generallynotice that the geniuses have the same kind of face that youhave--they generally have a little discontented, surprised look aboutthem. I admire the expression very much myself, and someti
mes when I'malone--for you know you and Primrose have to leave me a good dealalone--I try to practice it before the glass. I think it's mostlydone with a rise of the eyebrows, but I never can keep mine up longenough."
Jasmine laughed.
"I do hope I am a genius," she said; "I have always longed so to beone. If I really am, it will be all right about Poppy's money, for, ofcourse, the public will try to buy my story. It's really rather astriking story, Daisy. There's a girl in it who does such wonderfullyself-denying things--she never thinks of herself for a moment--she isvery poor, and yet she earns money in all sorts of delightful ways,and supports her family--she has got two sisters--they are not half asclever as she is at earning money. The story begins by the sistersrather despising Juliet, but in the end they find out how much she isworth. The leading idea in the story is the inculcation ofunselfishness--oh dear! oh dear! I hope I shall prove myself a geniusin having developed this character. If so, I shall be able to payPoppy back."
"There is something so beautiful in unselfishness," said Daisy, in arather prim, moralizing little tone. "Do you know, Jasmine, that I wasonce going to be frightfully selfish?--I should have been but for thePrince, but he spoke to me; he made up a lovely little story, and hetold me about the Palace Beautiful."
"I never can make out why you call these rooms the Palace Beautiful,Daisy," said Jasmine.
"It's because of the way they've been furnished," said Daisy. "Theyare full of Love, and Self-denial, and Goodness. I do so dearly liketo think of it. I lie often on the sofa for hours, and make up storiesabout three fairies, whom I call by these names; they are quiteplaymates for me, and I talk to them. I often almost fancy they arereal, but the strange thing is, Jasmine, they will only come to mewhen I have tried to be unselfish, and cheerful, and done my best tobe bright and happy. Then Goodness comes, and makes the walls shinewith his presence, and Self-denial makes my sofa so soft and easy, andLove gives me a nice view through the window, for I try to take aninterest in all the men and women and little children who pass, andwhen I sit at the window and look at them through Love's glass youcannot think how nice they all seem. I told the Prince about it oneday, and he said that was making a real Palace Beautiful out of ourrooms."
Jasmine sighed.
"I hear Primrose's step," she said. "Oh, Daisy! you are a darling! howsweetly you think. I wonder if these rooms could ever come to mean aPalace Beautiful to me! I don't think fairies could come to me here,Daisy. I don't think I could see things through their eyes. I want mypalace to be much larger and grander than this. Perhaps if I am a realgenius it will come to me through my story; but, oh! I hope I did notdo wrong in taking Poppy's money."
"No, for you are a genius," said little Daisy, kissing heraffectionately.