personality with her
clothes, and whirled in astride over two horses with neither saddle nor
bridle, guiding them and keeping them together by the pressure of her
feet. She had full skirts, to her knees, of white satin, and
pearl-coloured silk stockings. Her satin bodice was cut heart-shaped
and there was a high jewelled band round her long throat. Her hair
hung down in a thick plait, tied with a bow of blue velvet.

The horses tore round the ring at full gallop; she jumped over gates
and through hoops, and ended her performance by leaping off one of the
horses which was caught by a groom, and flinging herself on to the
other, face to the tail, for a final reckless canter round the arena.

The brilliance and nerve with which she carried through the trick,
roused the enthusiasm it deserved, and Arithelli passed out panting and
triumphant to the accompaniment of music and cheers, and showered roses
and carnations.

The part of her work that she most abhorred was the eight o'clock
compulsory visit to the stables. A circus life is not prone to
encourage the virtue of early rising, and she was by nature indolent in
a panther-like fashion, and was never in bed till half-past one or two
in the morning. If she had known a little more she could have
protested on the grounds that her position of leading lady did not
involve the feeding of her animals. She did it as she had done other
things without complaint, and presently Emile came to the rescue. He
knew as much about the habits and requirements of horses as he knew
about shop-keeping, being entirely ignorant of both.

"How much are the brutes to have?" he asked of the Manager. "And what
on earth do you give them?"

"Oh, I generally give 'em fish," was the sarcastic answer. "What are
you doing here, Poleski? This is the girl's business. I thought she
was keen on her horses."

"She is also keen on her bed," Emile answered. "She does her share of
work."

The Manager grumbled, but the new arrangement was allowed to stand.

Arithelli did not consort with the other female members of the
Hippodrome.

The one exception was Estelle the dancer, with whom Emile allowed her a
slight acquaintance. He neither approved of women in general nor of
their friendships. Estelle was the _bonne amie_ of the sardonic
Manager, who occasionally beat her, after which ceremony it was her
custom to drink _absinthe_. Sometimes, for this reason, she was unable
to appear on the st