duly, at first sight, during high-tea. In the course of the
evening, he sought to win her admiration by a display of all his tricks.
These were familiar to this household, and the children had been sent
to bed, the mother was dozing, long before the seance was at an end. But
Miss Dobson, unaccustomed to any gaieties, sat fascinated by the young
man's sleight of hand, marvelling that a top-hat could hold so many
goldfish, and a handkerchief turn so swiftly into a silver florin. All
that night, she lay wide awake, haunted by the miracles he had wrought.
Next evening, when she asked him to repeat them, "Nay," he whispered,
"I cannot bear to deceive the girl I love. Permit me to explain the
tricks." So he explained them. His eyes sought hers across the bowl of
gold-fish, his fingers trembled as he taught her to manipulate the magic
canister. One by one, she mastered the paltry secrets. Her respect for
him waned with every revelation. He complimented her on her skill. "I
could not do it more neatly myself!" he said. "Oh, dear Miss Dobson,
will you but accept my hand, all these things shall be yours--the cards,
the canister, the goldfish, the demon egg-cup--all yours!" Zuleika,
with ravishing coyness, answered that if he would give her them now, she
would "think it over." The swain consented, and at bed-time she
retired with the gift under her arm. In the light of her bedroom candle
Marguerite hung not in greater ecstasy over the jewel-casket than
hung Zuleika over the box of tricks. She clasped her hands over the
tremendous possibilities it held for her--manumission from her bondage,
wealth, fame, power. Stealthily, so soon as the house slumbered,
she packed her small outfit, embedding therein the precious gift.
Noiselessly, she shut the lid of her trunk, corded it, shouldered it,
stole down the stairs with it. Outside--how that chain had grated!
and her shoulder, how it was aching!--she soon found a cab. She took
a night's sanctuary in some railway-hotel. Next day, she moved into
a small room in a lodging-house off the Edgware Road, and there for
a whole week she was sedulous in the practice of her tricks. Then she
inscribed her name on the books of a "Juvenile Party Entertainments
Agency."

The Christmas holidays were at hand, and before long she got an
engagement. It was a great evening for her. Her repertory was, it must
be confessed, old and obvious; but the children, in deference to their
hostess, pretended not to know