ound
the circus with scarce a crack of the ring-mistress's whip.

To-night Lady Holme enjoyed governing it more than usual, and for a
subtle reason.

In testing her power upon Leo Ulford she was secretly practising her
siren's art, with a view that would have surprised and disgusted him,
still more amazed him, had he known it. She was firing at the dummy
in order that later she might make sure of hitting the living man. Leo
Ulford was the dummy. The living man would be Fritz.

Both dummy and living man were profoundly ignorant of her moving
principle. The one was radiant with self-satisfaction under her
fusillade. The other, ignorant of it so far, would have been furious in
the knowledge of it.

She knew-and laughed at the men.

Presently she turned the conversation, which was getting a little too
personal--on Leo Ulford's side--to a subject very present in her mind
that night.

"Did you have a talk with Miss Schley the other day after I left?"
she asked. "I ran away on purpose to give you a chance. Wasn't it
good-natured of me, when I was really longing to stay?"

Leo Ulford stretched out his long legs slowly, his type's way of
purring.

"I'd rather have gone on yarning with you."

"Then you did have a talk! She was at my house to-night, looking quite
delicious. You know she's conquered London?"

"That sort's up to every move on the board."

"What do you mean? What board?"

She looked at him with innocent inquiry.

"I wish men didn't know so much," she added; with a sort of soft
vexation. "You have so many opportunities of acquiring knowledge and we
so few--if we respect the _convenances_."

"Miss Schley wouldn't respect 'em."

He chuckled, and again drew up and then stretched out his legs, slowly
and luxuriously.

"How can you know?"

"She's not the sort that does. She's the sort that's always kicking over
the traces and keeping it dark. I know 'em."

"I think you're rather unkind. Miss Schley's mother arrives to-morrow."

Leo Ulford put up his hands to his baby moustache and shook with
laughter.

"That's the only thing she wanted to set her up in business," he
ejaculated. "A marmar. I do love those Americans!"

"But you speak as if Mrs. Schley were a stage property!"

"I'll bet she is. Wait till you see her. Why, it's a regular profession
in the States, being a marmar. I tell you what--"

He leaned forward and fixed his blue eyes on Lady Holme, with an air of
profound acuteness.

"Ar