laim to her, should Waife reappear
and dispute it. For Rugge's profession being scarcely legitimate and
decidedly equivocal, his right to bring up a female child to the
same calling might be called into question before a magistrate, and
necessitate the production of her father in order to substantiate the
special contract. In return, the manager handsomely offered to Mr.
Losely and Mrs. Crane to pay their expenses in the excursion,--a
liberality haughtily rejected by Mrs. Crane for herself, though she
agreed at her own charge to accompany Losely if he decided on complying
with the manager's request. Losely at first raised objections, but
hearing that there would be races in the neighbourhood, and having a
peculiar passion for betting and all kinds of gambling, as well as an
ardent desire to enjoy his L100 in so fashionable a manner, he consented
to delay his return to the Continent, and attend Arabella Crane to the
provincial Elis. Rugge, carried off Sophy to her fellow "orphans."

AND SOPHY WOULD NOT ACT!

In vain she was coaxed; in vain she was threatened; in vain she was
deprived of food; in vain shut up in a dark hole; in vain was the lash
held over her. Rugge, tyrant though he was, did not suffer the lash to
fall. His self-restraint there might be humanity,--might be fear of the
consequences; for the state of her health began to alarm him. She might
die; there might be an inquest. He wished now that he had taken Mrs.
Crane's suggestion, and re-engaged Waife. But where was Waife? Meanwhile
he had advertised the young Phenomenon; placarded the walls with the
name of Juliet Araminta; got up the piece of the Remorseless Baron, with
a new rock-scene. Waife had had nothing to say in that drama, so any one
could act his part.

The first performance was announced for that night: there would be such
an audience! the best seats even now pre-engaged; first night of the
race-week. The clock had struck seven; the performance began at eight.
AND SOPHY WOULD NOT ACT!

The child was seated in a space that served for the greenroom, behind
the scenes. The whole company had been convened to persuade or shame her
out of her obstinacy. The king's lieutenant, the seductive personage of
the troupe, was on one knee to her, like a lover. He was accustomed to
lovers' parts, both on the stage and off it. Off it, he had one favoured
phrase, hackneyed, but effective. "You are too pretty to be so
cruel." Thrice he now repeated that phrase