I stood to win a thousand
or lose six hundred.

"The next day I called on Wilson, the manager, who told me there was to
be a _matinee_ that afternoon. As I wanted his help I told him about the
bet and what my plans were. At first he demurred to assisting me to
carry them out, but I had been of some use previously to Wilson on
several occasions, so I had not much difficulty in shewing him there was
no harm in my scheme. By a little manoeuvring I was soon introduced to
the fair Marjorie and had her will well under my control. I saw her home
that afternoon and made five hundred. The next day I met her after
rehearsal; we took a cab to London Bridge, caught the mid-day train to
Brighton, lunched at the Metropole, and got back to town by five.
Witnesses were posted at both places to avoid disputes. Walkden was
madder than ever and that night we had a big kick-up, on the strength of
the thousand I had won."

"But what's become of Marjorie?" asked Tommy. "We never see her now."

"Oh, it appears that Lotty Carr, that stuck-up little minx who is
jealous of her and everybody else, heard something about this business
and asked Walkden, who, to save himself, told a lot of lies. Little Carr
then proceeded to make mischief by going first to Wilson and then to
Marjorie's mother. Wilson, of course, I was able to square, but the
mother was an invalid and the affair so upset her that it ended in her
death. Marjorie at once left the stage, forfeiting her salary. I was, of
course, awfully sorry and sent her half my winnings, which she returned.
_Truth_ then took it up and added to the fuss."

"What's she doing now?"

"Dressmaking or something of that sort. And, poor devil, I believe she
has two or three kids to support, brothers and sisters."

"Ah, well! I suppose she'll pick up with Sir Charles, now? He's got
plenty of the needful."

"Fool if she doesn't," replied this elegant young gentleman, flippantly.
Extremes meet. The naked savage has a fairly low estimate of the value
of his womankind, but it is many degrees higher than that of this
product of a highly-cultured civilization.

Tommy's curiosity was roused and he was anxious to draw more particulars
of his peculiar gift from his friend, so he continued his catechism.

"I say, Wyck! I suppose if you wanted a girl to get properly struck on
you, you could do it. Eh?"

"Rather, Tommy, I only want a girl to be in my company three or four
times and I can mould her so that she w