ould not to any one who had no knowledge at
all of her father's affairs--and she told him just how matters stood.

"Look here!" he exclaimed, when she had finished, "why not let me take
your father's place at the Kingsway? I have done a little amateur
acting, and am not nervous at the thought of appearing in public. Your
father confided in you so much--you must know all his tricks by
heart--couldn't you coach me!"

Gladys looked at him critically.

"It wouldn't be half a bad idea," she said. "Supposing you come with
me to the Hall, I can explain the tricks better if I show you the
apparatus at the same time."

Shiel thoroughly enjoyed that journey up to town. He knew it was wrong
of him to think of his own pleasure, when the affairs of his companion
were in such a critical condition. He knew he ought not to look at her
in the way he did--as if she was the most precious thing in the world,
and he would give her his soul if she wanted it--he knew that he--a
penniless artist without any prospects--had no right to behave thus.
But her beauty appealed to him with a force he was entirely incapable
of resisting, and he went on looking at her in the way he knew he
ought not to look at her, simply because he couldn't help it.

He lunched with her at her club in Dover Street, and then they taxied
to the Kingsway.

The door-keeper, the only living creature in the building, saving
themselves, seemed to share in the general depression hanging over
everything--the great, empty front of the house with its gloomy,
cavernous boxes and grim, grey gallery--the dark, dismal flies--the
chilly wings--all hushed and still, and impregnated with the sense of
desertion. But with this man beside her, who, she knew, would do
anything he could to help, the place did not look quite so bad to
Gladys as it had done the day before. There was a ray of light now
where, before, ebon blackness had prevailed.

Without delay Gladys rang up the Indian attendants on the telephone,
and occupied the time prior to their arrival by describing to Shiel
how each of the tricks was done.

Her pupil proved far more able than she had anticipated. After several
rehearsals he was able to go through the whole performance without a
hitch.

When they had finished, Gladys stretched out her hand impulsively. "I
don't know how to thank you enough," she said. "You are a brick, and
if only you do half as well this evening as you have done now, we
shall get on swimming