a child around?"

"Lots of men take kids to the circus--just as an excuse to go
themselves."

So Maurice and the eight-year-old Jacky, in a new sailor suit, and a
face so clean that it shone, walked in among the gilded cages, felt the
sawdust under their feet, smelled the wild animals, heard the yelps of
the jackals, the booming roar of lions, and the screeching chatter of
the monkeys. And as Jacky dragged his father from cage to cage, a yard
or two behind them came Eleanor.... Now and then, over Jacky's head, she
caught Maurice's eye; and they both smiled.

When a speechless Jacky was taken into the central tent to sit on a
narrow bench, and drink pink lemonade and eat peanuts, Eleanor was quite
near him. He was unconscious of her presence--unconscious of everything!
except the blare of the band, the elephants, the performing
dogs--especially the poor, strained performing dogs! He never spoke
once; his eyes were fixed on the rings; he didn't see his father
watching him, amused and proud; still less did he see the lady who had
been at his heels in the animal tent, and who now kept her mournful dark
eyes on his face. When the last horse gave the last kick and trotted out
through the exit, with its mysterious canvas walls, Jacky was in a daze
of bliss. He sat, open-mouthed, staring at the empty, trampled sawdust.

"Come along, young man!" Maurice said; "do you want to stay here all
night?"

"I'm going to be a circus rider," said Jacky, solemnly.

It was then that the "lady" spoke to him--her voice broke twice: "Well,
little boy, did you like the circus?" the lady said. She was so pale
that Maurice put his hand on her arm.

"Better sit down, Nelly," he said, kindly, under his breath.

She shook her head. "No ... Jacky, don't you want to tell me your name?"

"But you _know_ my name," said Jacky, with a bored look.

Maurice gave her a warning glance, and she tried to cover her blunder:
"I heard your father--I mean this gentleman--call you 'Jacky,'" she
explained--panting, for Maurice's quick frown frightened her. "Here's a
present for you," she said.

"_Present_!" said Jacky--and made a joyous grab at the horn, which he
immediately put to his lips; but before it could emit its ear-piercing
screech, Maurice struck it down.

"Where are your manners? Say 'Thank you' to the lady."

Jacky sighed, but murmured, "'Ank you."

Eleanor, her chin trembling, said: "May I kiss him?"

"'Course," Maurice said, huskily.