in Trafalgar Square would be blown up by Suffragettes; or something equally fresh and exciting?  One cannot get thrills—­at least not the right kind of thrills in reading of what has already taken place.  To say to ourselves, or to a friend, “Just fancy, we might have been in that railway accident,” or, in reading of a shipwreck “What a mercy we did not embark after all, is it not?” is not half as enthralling as to be wondering if, at eleven o’clock that night, when the terrific storm in which twenty-six people will be killed by lightning in various parts of England, we shall be among the fatal number.  One is not much moved to find oneself alive when a danger is passed, but one does get terribly excited in contemplating the risk we are bound to run of being killed.  Within a week, the circulation of To-morrow had gone up from fifty thousand to ten million, and Hamar, inflated with success, said to himself, “Now I will go and have another look at John Martin.”

When he arrived, Gladys was in the garden.  His stealthy approach had given her no chance to escape.

“What is your business?” she asked, glancing nervously in the direction of the house, and dreading lest her father should see Hamar from his window.

“I’ve come to see your father,” Hamar said, his eyes resting admiringly on her face and then running leisurely over her figure.  “How is the old gentleman?”

“He is not well enough to see visitors,” Gladys said, with absolute hauteur.  “Perhaps you will state your business to me.”

“Well!  I don’t mind if I do!” Hamar replied.  “Let us sit down.  It’s more comfortable than standing.”  And he dropped into a seat as he spoke.  “Now I’ve been noticing,” he went on, “that your Show in the Kingsway is not getting on very well—­that there are fewer and fewer people there every night, and I’ve no doubt it will soon have to dry up altogether.  We, on the other hand, are doing better and better every night, and we shall go on doing better—­there is no limit to our possibilities.  We are worth half a million now—­next year, we shall be worth ten times that amount!”

“You are optimistical, at all events,” Gladys said.

“I can afford to be,” Hamar grinned.  “Now, do you know what we intend doing before very long?”

“I haven’t the least idea, and I am not in the slightest degree curious.”

“Aren’t you?  Well, you should be, since it concerns you.  We mean to buy up the whole of Kingsway!”

“And later on, of course, the whole of Regent Street!”

“You are satirical.  You are not alarmed at the prospect of having me for a landlord!”

“I don’t understand you!  The Hall in Kingsway is my father’s own property.”

“If that is so then you have nothing to fear,” Hamar laughed, “but I think it just possible you are mistaken.  At any rate, I’ve been in communication with some one styling himself the landlord.”

“My father would have an agreement, anyhow!” Gladys said.