t you tried, then?"

"I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way."

"I'll introduce you to Campion," I said, "and doubtless he'll be able to
find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. I'll
take you down to see him."

"Will you?"

"Certainly," said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. "I
wonder, my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you
have over savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans."

"I wonder," she said thoughtfully.

"I should like to see you seize a drunken costermonger in the act of
jumping on his wife by the scruff of the neck, and reduce him to such
pulp that he sat up on his tail and begged."

"Oh, Simon!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "I quite thought you were
serious."

"So I am, my dear," I returned quickly, "as serious as I can be."

She laughed. "Do you remember the first day you came to see me? You said
that I could train any human bear to dance to whatever tune I pleased. I
wonder if the same thought was at the back of your head."

"It wasn't. It was a bad and villainous thought. I came under the
impression that you were a dangerous seductress."

"And I'm not?"

Oh, that spring day, that delicious tingle in the air, that laughing
impertinence of the budding trees in the park through which we were then
driving, that enveloping sense of fragrance and the nearness and the
dearness of her! Oh, that overcharge of vitality! I leaned my head to
hers so that my lips nearly touched her ear. My voice shook.

"You're a seductress and a witch and a sorcerer and an enchantress."

The blood rose to her dark face. She half closed her eyes.

"What else am I?" she murmured.

But, alas! I had not time to answer, for the brougham stopped at the
gates of the Zoological Gardens. We both awakened from our foolishness.
My hand was on the door-handle when she checked me.

"What's the good of a mind if you can't change it? I don't feel in a
mood for wild beasts to-day, and I know you don't care to see me fooling
about with them. I would much rather sit quiet and talk to you."

With a woman who wants to sacrifice herself there is no disputing.
Besides, I had no desire to dispute. I acquiesced. We agreed to continue
our drive.

"We'll go round by Hampstead Heath," she said to the chauffeur. As soon
as we were in motion again, she drew ever so little nearer and said, in
her lowest, richest notes, and with a coquetry that was bew