hall ever see you again?" she said.

"Should you like--?" he answered, with a sly smile and a faint
shrug.

"I should like awfully--" a flush grew on her cheek. She heard Miss
Pinnegar's scarcely audible step approaching.

He nodded at her slightly, watching her fixedly, turning up the
corners of his eyes slyly, his nose seeming slyly to sharpen.

"All right. Next week, eh? In the morning?"

"Do!" cried Alvina, as Miss Pinnegar came through the door. He
glanced quickly over his shoulder.

"Oh!" cried Miss Pinnegar. "I couldn't imagine who it was." She eyed
the young fellow sharply.

"Couldn't you?" said Alvina. "We brought back these things."

"Oh yes. Well--you'd better come into the other room, to the fire,"
said Miss Pinnegar.

"I shall go along. Good-bye!" said Ciccio, and with a slight bow to
Alvina, and a still slighter to Miss Pinnegar, he was out of the
room and out of the front door, as if turning tail.

"I suppose they're going this morning," said Miss Pinnegar.

CHAPTER IX

ALVINA BECOMES ALLAYE

Alvina wept when the Natchas had gone. She loved them so much, she
wanted to be with them. Even Ciccio she regarded as only one of the
Natchas. She looked forward to his coming as to a visit from the
troupe.

How dull the theatre was without them! She was tired of the
Endeavour. She wished it did not exist. The rehearsal on the Monday
morning bored her terribly. Her father was nervous and irritable.
The previous week had tried him sorely. He had worked himself into a
state of nervous apprehension such as nothing would have justified,
unless perhaps, if the wooden walls of the Endeavour had burnt to
the ground, with James inside victimized like another Samson. He had
developed a nervous horror of all artistes. He did not feel safe for
one single moment whilst he depended on a single one of them.

"We shall have to convert into all pictures," he said in a nervous
fever to Mr. May. "Don't make any more engagements after the end of
next month."

"Really!" said Mr. May. "Really! Have you quite decided?"

"Yes quite! Yes quite!" James fluttered. "I have written about a new
machine, and the supply of films from Chanticlers."

"Really!" said Mr. May. "Oh well then, in that case--" But he was
filled with dismay and chagrin.

"Of cauce," he said later to Alvina, "I can't _possibly_ stop on if
we are nothing but a picture show!" And he arched his blanched and
dismal eyelids with ghastly finalit