Jules left him feeling bitterly disappointed. There was no hope then! He had surmised that the shrewd-eyed Englishman knew his business. There was nothing to do but to go to Marshall and explain the situation. When he returned from the Hippodrome to the apartment Blanche met him at the door. His face was darkened with a scowl. "What did he say?" she asked nervously, as he entered and threw his overcoat on a chair. "Was he--was he angry?" "Angry? No; he was altogether too cool. If he'd been angry I shouldn't have cared. I'd have liked that a good deal better." "Then we sha'n't have to pay a forfeit?" said Blanche, glancing up into his face. He turned away and threw himself wearily on the couch. "No, you won't have to pay a forfeit, but you'll have to go on with the engagement." "With the diving?" she said, her face growing white. "No, with the other work--on the trapeze and the rope. He said you'd have to elaborate that, and he'd pay you half what you're getting now till you were ready to do the diving again. He wants to keep you on account of your name. He's advertised you all over the city, and even out in the country places near London." "But he--he doesn't object to my giving up the plunge?" Blanche repeated, in a tone which suggested that her professional pride was hurt. "He didn't when I told him the Doctor had forbidden your going on with it for a while. Besides, he had another reason for not objecting." "What was that?" "He showed me a letter he'd just had from that woman who made such a sensation in Bucharest while we were in Vienna. Don't you remember? I showed you some of her notices. She does a swimming act, and dives from a platform into a tank. She's been playing in the English provinces, and now she wants to come to London." "So he's going to engage her in my place?" Blanche gasped. "In your place?" Jules repeated irritably. "How can he engage her in your place when he's going to keep you? We've got to live, and it won't hurt you to go on with your work on the trapeze and the rope. He knows your name will be an attraction, and if he engages that Englishwoman, she'll be another card for him--a big one. He says she's been drawing crowds in Manchester for six weeks." "What's her name?" "King--Lottie King--or something like that." "Is she pretty? Did he show you her pictures?" "Yes; her manager sent him a whole box of them. She's _petite_, with wicked little eyes." "Dark?" "No, blonde." "And what is her dive?" "What?" "How high is it?" "Fifty feet, Marshall said; but one of the circus hands told me it wasn't much more, than forty." "Oh!" There was a suggestion of a sneer in her tone, and Jules looked up in surprise. "Of course, it's nothing compared with yours," he said, to console her. "When is she going to begin?" she asked, after a moment. "Going to begin? Do you mean here in London? Marshall hasn't signed with her yet. She's engaged in Manchester for three weeks longer."