the feats achieved by the Clown,
wild were the transformations and substitutions effected by the trim and
ubiquitous Harlequin. But what Jenny loved most were the fairy entrances
of Columbine, as, like a pink feather, she danced before the footlights
and in and out of the shops. Oh, to be a Columbine, she thought, to
dance in silver and pink down Hagworth Street with a thousand eyes to
admire her, a thousand hands to acclaim the beautiful vision.

It came to an end, the pantomime of Aladdin. It came to an end with the
Clown's shower of crackers. Triumph of triumphs, Jenny actually caught
one.

"You and me will pull it," she whispered to Mr. Vergoe, clasping his
hand in childish love.

But it came to an end, the pantomime of Aladdin; and home they went
again to Hagworth Street. Home they went, all three children's hearts
afire with the potential magic of every street corner. Home they went,
talking and laughing and interrupting and imitating and recalling, while
Mr. Vergoe thought of old days. How quiet and dark Hagworth Street
seemed when they reached it.

But it was very delightful to rush in past Ruby and turn somersaults
all the way to the kitchen. It was very delightful to stand in a knot
round their father and tell him the whole story and recount each
separate splendor, while he and Mr. Vergoe sipped a glass of Mr.
Vergoe's warm whisky with a slice of lemon added. It was good fun to
disconcert Ruby by tripping her up. It was fine to seize the poker and
chase her all round the kitchen.

The bedtime of this never-to-be-forgotten evening came at last. Jenny
and Edie lay awake and traced in the ceiling shadows startling
similarities to the action of the harlequinade. Edie fell asleep, but
Jenny still lay awake, her heart going pitter-pat with a big resolve,
her breath coming in little gasps with the birth of a new ambition. She
must go on the stage. She must dance for all the world to gaze at her.
She would. She would. She must. What a world it was, this wonderful
world of the stage--an existence of color and scent and movement and
admiration.

The oilcloth of Hagworth Street seemed more than usually cold and dreary
on the following day. Alfie, too, was in a very despondent mood, having
fallen deeply in love with Miss Letty Lightbody, who had played the part
of Pekoe, Aladdin's friend and confidant. An air of staleness permeated
everything for a week. Then Mrs. Raeburn came back from Barnsbury, and
Jenny raised