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only on the understanding that you behave to him like an angel this evening." And he continued, with malice, "You really must understand, Lina, that Borek is not fond enough of you to submit to your caprices. One day he will say good-by and—leave. Then you will be sorry."

She snapped, with her face to the wall: "Oh, go away, Kessel, and try to arrange mat ter s. I hate you all."

Kessel at last returned, to announce, not without a certain pride, that Borek consented to stay, but that he refused absolutely to wear tights in Barbe-Bleue.

That evening they gave The Snowbird, and Borek, as the fairy prince who slays, by mischance, the enchanted princess, wore his tights. Lina, consequently, although she had lost, and not won, her victory, was radiant. In her brief tunic of snowy plumage, with white feathers crowning the jetty blackness of her hair, she was fleet, ethereal, fairer than a summer cloud. And her dancing was inspired.

Afterward, in her dressing-room, swathed in her sabletrimmed wrap, she received various notabilities of the town. She was tired, but did not show it. She was unfailingly gracious and tactful to these ponderous judges and senators and to their goggle-eyed loquacious wives. Each one of them, it seemed, possessed a small daughter who could dance like a dream, like a little Varsovina.

"Really, Madame, without wishing to boast, we can't help but say that little Elsie shows a really remarkable talent for dancing. Her teachers are just amazed by her progress. Can't imagine, either, where she gets it fr0m,—not from me, nor yet from her ma. But there it is."

And Lina smiled, and gave them roses for their buttonholes, and asked all manner of questions about little Elsie, and repeated several times that the audiences of Baltimore were more intelligent, more enthusiastic, than anywhere