What strange magnetism there was about this girl Harding, and indeed all who looked at her, found it hard to define. Perhaps, apart from her lovely eyes and hair and her exquisite figure, it was because she always seemed to be drawing away that she proved so fascinating. Even when she advanced straight toward you she seemed for ever to retreat. By what subtle and skilful instinct of coquetry Miss Tinsel was enabled to convey this impression cannot here be explained. That she did convey it was universally admitted. It appeared, however, on inquiry, that her dramatic powers were of the slightest. Her beauty and charm were such that the manager would gladly have put her forward could he have seen his way to do so. But her success had been so moderate, when the experiment was tried, in one or two of the "walking ladies" of farces, that it was thought wisest to let her be seen as much and heard as little as possible. When Harding last saw her that night she was going up to Paradise on one foot, the other pointing vaguely at nothing behind, the intoxicating eyes turned up with a charming simulation of pious joy, and the cherry lips curled into a smile that showed plenty of pearls below. She vanished from his gaze in a glory of red fire, amid the blare of gongs and trumpets, while the "Blood-Red Demon" went down to the bad place under the stage through a trap, and the "Queen of the Fairy Bower," with felicitous compensation, ascended to the heaven of the flies. After this tremendous catastrophe Harding went to his hotel and reflected. That a Timon like himself--a misogynist indeed of the first water--should fall in love at first sight with a ballet girl certainly furnished matter for reflection. But reflection did not prevent Timon from seeking an interview with his unconscious enslaver the next day. Even cold and soured natures may become under some incentives enthusiastic and ingenious. Harding found out where Miss Tinsel lived, learned that she usually came from rehearsal at about two, called consequently at three, and coolly sent in his name, telling the servant that the young lady would know who he was. As he hoped, the device got him admittance. The girl supposed he was some one from the theatre whose name she had not caught or had forgotten. It was a very plain and humble room, almost us bare and forbidding perhaps as the inside of Harding's tent on the knoll, and yet how glorified was the place with the purple atmosphere of romance!