offered it to the Maiden, who at first wouldn’t have it, but on the Savage shedding tears, relented.  Then the Savage jumped for joy; then the Maiden jumped for rapture at the sweet smell of the pickled cabbage; then the Savage and the Maiden danced violently together, and finally the Savage dropped down on one knee, and the Maiden stood on one leg upon his other knee; thus concluding the ballet, and leaving the spectators in a state of pleasing uncertainty whether she would ultimately marry the Savage, or return to her friends.

“Bravo!” cried Nicholas, resolved to make the best of everything.  “Beautiful!”

“This, sir,” said Mr. Vincent Crummles, bringing the Maiden forward, “This is the Infant Phenomenon—­Miss Ninetta Crummles.”

“Your daughter?” inquired Nicholas.

“My daughter—­my daughter,” replied Mr. Crummles; “the idol of every place we go into, sir.  We have had complimentary letters about this girl, sir, from the nobility and gentry of almost every town in England.”

“I am not surprised at that,” said Nicholas; “she must be quite a natural genius.”

“Quite a—!” Mr. Crummles stopped:  language was not powerful enough to describe the Infant Phenomenon.  “I’ll tell you what, sir,” he said; “the talent of this child is not to be imagined.  She must be seen, sir—­seen—­to be ever so faintly appreciated.  There; go to your mother, my dear.”

“May I ask how old she is?” inquired Nicholas.

“You may, sir,” replied Mr. Crummles, “She is ten years of age, sir,”

“Not more?”

“Not a day.”

“Dear me,” said Nicholas, “it’s extraordinary.”

It was; for the Infant Phenomenon certainly looked older, and had moreover, been precisely the same age for certainly five years.  But she had been kept up late every night, and put upon an unlimited allowance of gin and water from infancy, to prevent her growing tall, and perhaps this system of training had produced in the Infant Phenomenon these additional phenomena.

When this dialogue was concluded, another member of the company, Mr. Folair, joined Nicholas, and confided to him the contempt of the entire troupe for the Infant Phenomenon.  “Infant Humbug sir!” he said.  “There isn’t a female child of common sharpness in a charity school that couldn’t do better than that.  She may thank her stars she was born a manager’s daughter.”

“You seem to take it to heart,” observed Nicholas with a smile.

“Yes, by Jove, and well I may,” said Mr. Folair testily “isn’t it enough to make a man crusty, to see the little sprawler put up in the best business every night, and actually keeping money out of the house by being forced down the people’s throats while other people are passed over?  Why, I know of fifteen-and-sixpence that came to Southampton last month to see me dance the Highland Fling, and what’s the consequence?  I’ve never been put up at it since—­never once—­while the ’Infant Phenomenon’ has been grinning through artificial flowers at five people and a baby in the pit, and two boys in the gallery, every night.”