made him play up to
this somewhat elderly siren. The third was the gods, who had ever smiled
on Jerry Paxton.

It was a season when all the society clubs and leagues were spending
themselves and their money in lavish spectacles of all kinds. There were
Balls of the Gods and Pagan Routs, Persian Ballets and Greek Friezes,
personified by the very best people, and some of the second best.

Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon, who was socially elect, headed an eager and
earnest group of ladies of her set, who desired to outdo all previous
efforts in a mammoth affair, which would provide woollen underwear for
the Belgians, or something equally practical and unpoetic. She happened
to mention her dilemma to Jerry, as they sat at tea in Mrs. Brendon's
drawing-room a week or so after their first meeting.

"We can't seem to think of anything which has not been done," she
complained. "We have people to be in the thing, people to produce it,
people to come to see it, and all we need is----"

"Brains," said Jerry daringly.

"Have you any?"

"I have a couple of lobes."

"Have you them with you?"

"There is at least one in good working order, and at your disposal," he
laughed.

"Think of something new for us to do."

"If I supply the idea, will you make me director?"

"We'll make you prime minister, court chamberlain, anything you like!"

"Good. The thing will be called the 'Pageant of the Prophets.'"

"What prophets?"

"The old Biblical ones, but we'll draw on the entire Bible for our
characters. We will build a palace throne room, Pontius Pilate's
perhaps, or King Herod's, very gorgeous and beautiful. We can have
groups, and friezes, and scenes; the costuming has infinite
possibilities. We can have music and singing pilgrims. We can have
dancing Salome, with her dripping head. Oh! it will be one magnificent
spectacle!"

"You are a genius!" cried Mrs. Brendon.

"Granted. Then what?"

"We will have you do it all. You shall design the whole thing, and
direct it. Draw your plans and submit your terms. You are elected right
now."

"You are in earnest?"

"Never more so."

"Then accept my services as a poor return for your excellent tea."

"Nonsense. That is a pretty speech, but you have to earn your own
living, don't you?"

"Alas, yes."

"Then there is no reason why you should donate time and brains for
nothing. This is a business proposition. Will you take it?"

"With both hands and a grateful heart."

"You'll h