Inwardly she made a vow that never again should her good-nature lead her into such a troublesome adventure.
"We must be solemn here, Poppy," said Jasmine, as they were entering the cathedral; "we must forget the beautiful bonnets, and those dear little tight-fitting jackets, and those muslin dresses.

We must forget the little story we made up of imagining ourselves rich enough to buy all these things.

Perhaps we may think a very little of one or two of the pictures, but we must forget the vanities now.

It has always been one of my dreams to come in here--oh! oh!--Poppy." Jasmine clasped her companion's hand, and her excitable little face grew white--the magnitude of the great cathedral, the solemn hush, and quiet, and sense of rest after the rushing noise outside, was too much for her--her eyes filled with tears, and she was very nearly guilty of committing the offence which would have obliged her to learn some of Butler's "Analogy" by heart.

The rest of the party wandered about the cathedral, and looked at the monuments, and presently went up into the Whispering Gallery, but Jasmine felt suddenly tired and disinclined to move about.
"Go on with Daisy, Poppy," she said to her companion; "I will rest here for a little;" then she seated herself on one of the chairs, and in a moment or two went down on her knees and covered her childish face with her hands.
Not at all long was Jasmine's prayer, but somehow it was very fervent, and it certainly reached a Presence which gives strength and peace.
She was no longer oppressed by St.Paul's--she was comforted and strengthened.
"I do hope God will help us," she said to herself.