ickly passed beneath the roughly constructed doorway
that gave access into the booth.

A man, dressed in theatrical rags and wearing the characteristic scarlet
cap, stood immediately within the entrance, and ostentatiously rattled a
money box at regular intervals.

"For the starving poor of Paris," he drawled out in nasal monotonous
tones the moment he caught sight of Marguerite and of her rich gown. She
dropped some gold into the box and then passed on.

The interior of the booth was dark and lonely-looking after the glare
of the hot September sun and the noisy crowd that thronged the sward
outside. Evidently a performance had just taken place on the elevated
platform beyond, for a few yokels seemed to be lingering in a desultory
manner as if preparatory to going out.

A few disjointed comments reached Marguerite's ears as she approached,
and the small groups parted to allow her to pass. One or two women
gaped in astonishment at her beautiful dress, whilst others bobbed a
respectful curtsey.

The mechanical toy arrester her attention immediately. She did not find
it as gruesome as she expected, only singularly grotesque, with all
those wooden little figures in their quaint, arrested action.

She drew nearer to have a better look, and the yokels who had lingered
behind, paused, wondering if she would make any remark.

"Her ladyship was born in France," murmured one of the men, close to
her, "she would know if the thing really looks like that."

"She do seem interested," quoth another in a whisper.

"Lud love us all!" said a buxom wench, who was clinging to the arm of a
nervous-looking youth, "I believe they're coming for more money."

On the elevated platform at the further end of the tent, a slim
figure had just made its appearance, that of a young woman dressed in
peculiarly sombre colours, and with a black lace hood thrown lightly
over her head.

Marguerite thought that the face seemed familiar to her, and she also
noticed that the woman carried a large embroidered reticule in her
bemittened hand.

There was a general exodus the moment she appeared. The Richmond yokels
did not like the look of that reticule. They felt that sufficient
demand had already been made upon their scant purses, considering the
meagerness of the entertainment, and they dreaded being lured to further
extravagance.

When Marguerite turned away from the mechanical toy, the last of the
little crowd had disappeared, and she was alo