ge, printed in fascinating red and black
with flourishes.

"I'll just see whether--" And the smooth, white fingers hesitated; but
she had caught a glimpse of an ancient engraving on the next page--a very
quaint one, that held her fascinated.

"I wonder----"

She turned the next page. The first paragraph of the famous classic began
deliciously. After a few moments she laughed, adding to herself: "I can't
see what harm----"

There was no harm. Her father had meant another book; but Sybilla did not
know that.

"I'll just glance through it to--to--be sure that I mustn't read it."

She laid one hand on the paper hanger's table, vaulted up sideways, and,
seated on the top, legs swinging, buried herself in the book, unconscious
that the overturned paste was slowly fastening her to the spattered table
top.

An hour later, hearing steps on the landing, she sprang--that is, she
went through all the graceful motions of springing lightly to the floor.
But she had not budged an inch. No Gorgon's head could have consigned her
to immovability more hopeless.

Restrained from freedom by she knew not what, she made one frantic and
demoralized effort--and sank back in terror at the ominous tearing sound.

She was glued irrevocably to the table.

[Illustration]

XIII

THE CROWN PRINCE

_Wherein the Green Mouse Squeaks_

A few minutes later the paper hanging young man entered, swinging an
empty dinner pail and halted in polite surprise before a flushed young
girl in full fencing costume, who sat on his operating table, feet
crossed, convulsively hugging a book to the scarlet heart embroidered on
her plastron.

"I--hope you don't mind my sitting here," she managed to say. "I wanted
to watch the work."

"By all means," he said pleasantly. "Let me get you a chair----"

"No, thank you. I had rather sit th-this way. Please begin and don't mind
if I watch you."

The young man appeared to be perplexed.

"I'm afraid," he ventured, "that I may require that table for cutting
and----"

"Please--if you don't mind--begin to paste. I am in-intensely interested
in p-pasting--I like to w-watch p-paper p-pasted on a w-wall."

Her small teeth chattered in spite of her; she strove to control her
voice--strove to collect her wits.

He stood irresolute, rather astonished, too.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but----"

"_Please_ paste; won't you?" she asked.

"Why, I've got to have that table to paste on----"

"Then d-don't t