"I have to like it," she said. "Besides, there is an excitement about it, and I crave excitement." "But wouldn't you rather have a home of your own?" "Listen! I had a home of my own, but my husband was intemperate, and in fits of intoxication would illtreat me and my boy." "Then you have a boy?" said Kit, surprised. "Yes; and I support him at a boarding school out of my professional earnings, which are large." "I am going to ask you another question, but you may not like to answer it." "Speak plainly." "Your husband is living, is he not?" "Yes." "Does he know that you are a circus performer?" "No; and I would not have him know for worlds." "Would he feel sensitive about it?" Mlle. Lefroy laughed bitterly. "You don't know him, or you would not ask that question," she said. "He would want to appropriate my salary. That is why I do not care to have him know how I am earning the living which he ought to provide for me." "I sympathize with you," said Kit, gently. "Then you don't think any the worse of me because I am a trapeze performer." "Why should I? Am I not a circus performer also?" "Yes; but it is different with you, being a man. You would not like to think of your mother or sister in my position." "No; I would not, yet I can imagine circumstances that would justify it." From this time Kit was disposed to look with different eyes upon Mlle. Lefroy. He did not think of her as a daring actor, but rather as an injured wife and devoted mother, who every day risked her life for the sake of one who was dear to her. "Did you never fear that your husband might be present when you are performing?" asked Kit. "It is my constant dread," answered Mlle. Lefroy. "When I come out in my costume, and look over the sea of heads, I am always afraid I shall see _his_ face." "But you never have yet?" "Never yet. I do not think if I should see that man I could go through my part. It requires nerve, as you know, and my nerves would be so shaken that my life would be in peril. If you ever hear of my meeting with an accident, you may guess the probable cause." "Then, if ever you recognize your husband among the spectators, it would be prudent to omit your performance." "That is what I propose to do." Kit little imagined how soon the contingency which his friend feared would arrive. Two evenings later Harry Thorne brought him a little note. He opened it and read as follows: Come and see me at once. LOUISE LEFROY. Kit ascertained where Mlle. Lefroy was to be found, and obeyed the summons immediately. He found the lady in great agitation. "Are you not well?" he asked. "Well in health, but not in mind," she answered. "Has anything happened?" "Yes; what I dreaded has come to pass." "Have you seen your husband?" asked Kit quickly. "Yes; I was taking a walk, and saw him on the opposite side of the street." "Did he see you?"