animals passed each other on their
way to and from the ring, then the lot cleared again, and Polly came
slowly from the dressing tent. She looked very different from the little
girl whom Jim had led away from the parson's garden in a simple, white
frock one month before. Her thin, pensive face contrasted oddly with
her glittering attire. Her hair was knotted high on her head {a}nd
intertwined with flowers and jewels. Her slender neck seemed scarcely
able to support its burden. Her short, full skirt and low cut bodice
were ablaze with white and coloured stones.

"What's on, Jim?" she asked.

"The 'Leap o' Death.' You got plenty a' time."

Polly's mind went back to the girl who answered that call a year ago.
Her spirit seemed very near to-night. The band stopped playing. Barker
made his grandiloquent announcement about the wonderful act about to be
seen, and her eyes wandered to the distant church steeple. The moonlight
seemed to shun it to-night. It looked cold and grim and dark. She
wondered whether the solemn bell that once called its flock to worship
had become as mute as her own dead heart. She did not hear the whirr of
the great machine inside the tent, as it plunged through space with its
girl occupant. These things were a part of the daily routine, part of
the strange, vague dream through which she must stumble for the rest of
her life.

Jim watched her in silence. Her face was turned from him. She had
forgotten his presence.

"Star gazin', Poll?" he asked at length, dreading to disturb her revery.

"I guess I was, Jim." She turned to him with a little, forced smile. He
longed to save her from Barker's threatened rebuke.

"How yer feelin' to-night?"

"I'm all right," she answered, cheerfully

"Anythin' yer want?"

"Want?" she turned upon him with startled eyes. There was so much that
she wanted, that the mere mention of the word had opened a well of pain
in her heart.

"I mean, can I do anythin' for you?"

"Oh, of course not." She remembered how little ANY ONE could do.

"What is it, Poll?" he begged; but she only turned away and shook her
head with a sigh. He followed her with anxious eyes. "What made yer cut
out the show to-day? Was it because you didn't want ter ride afore folks
what knowed yer? Ride afore HIM, mebbe?"

"HIM?" Her face was white. Jim feared she might swoon. "You don't mean
that he was----"

"Oh, no," he answered, quickly, "of course not. Parsons don't come to
places like th