to tell me that the
manager of the Alexandria Theatre had asked her if she would take the
part of second dancer throughout the carnival time.

"He offered me sixty sequins," she added, "and I told him I would let him
know by to-morrow. Do you advise me to accept his offer?"

"If you love me, dearest Agatha, you will prove it by refusing all
engagements for a year. You know I will let you want for nothing.

"I will get you the best masters, and in that time you can perfect your
dancing, and will be able to ask for a first-class appointment, with a
salary of five hundred sequins a year."

"Mamma thinks that I should accept the offer, as the dancing on the stage
will improve my style, and I can study under a good master all the same.
I think myself that dancing in public would do me good."

"There is reason in what you say, but you do not need the sixty sequins.
You will dishonour me by accepting such a poor offer, and you will do
yourself harm too, as you will not be able to ask for a good salary after
taking such a small one."

"But sixty sequins is not so bad for a carnival engagement."

"But you don't want sixty sequins; you can have them without dancing at
all. If you love me, I repeat, you will tell the manager that you are
going to rest for a year."

"I will do what you please, but it seems to me the best plan would be to
ask an exorbitant sum."

"You are right; that is a good idea. Tell him you must be first dancer,
and that your salary must be five hundred sequins."

"I will do so, and am only too happy to be able to prove that I love
you."

Agatha had plenty of inborn common sense, which only needed development.
With that and the beauty which Heaven had given her her future was
assured.

She was eventually happy, and she deserved her happiness.

The next day she told me that the manager did not appear at all
astonished at her demands.

"He reflected a few minutes," said she, "and told me he must think it
over, and would see me again. It would be amusing if he took me at my
word, would it not?"

"Yes, but we should then have to enquire whether he is a madman or a
beggar on the verge of bankruptcy."

"And if he turns out to be a man of means?"

"In that case you would be obliged to accept."

"That is easily said and easily done, but have I sufficient talent? Where
shall I find an actor to dance with me?"

"I will engage to find you one. As to talent, you have enough and to
spare; but you wi