Miss Gorham smiled with gentle indulgence for such levity. "Oh, if I could only persuade you to go in for acting!" she breathed in her low tones. "With your temperament—those eyes—I am sure you would be quite won-derful."
Letty came up to them smiling, and her cheerful blue eyes were dancing mischievously. "You see, we nearly all show off here, Mr. Halket," she said. "I'm sure you do something—and we'd appreciate it so if you only would."
"I'm sorry," Floyd answered. "I can't sing or dance or speak a piece. Why, excuse me just a moment, Miss Bell; what is this just coming out of your sleeve? It's caught there, is n't it?" And he reached out, and after three or four gentle tugs drew forth a twenty-five cent piece.
"Oh," cried Letty, clapping her hands, "he's a juggler, he's a juggler! Look here, children," and she pushed the McDonald twins forward. "Watch him do tricks."
So Floyd went through his limited performance: he even brought a silk handkerchief down from his room, showed successfully the magic of the vanishing egg and of the disappearing ring, and then with a pack of cards mystified and delighted his audience.
Only Tustin, who seemed to be a grudging sort of man, looked on with a crooked, contemptuous smile. Floyd had been both interested and repelled by the man's strong and disagreeable face. Now the crooked smile that seemed to deride his own small efforts to entertain the company jarred upon his nerves, and Floyd found himself disliking Tustin even more than his wife. The only time during the evening when Tustin had opened his lips had been to join in the singing of the Sankey hymn, and that had seemed to be under angry protest. But not until Floyd began his sleight-of-hand did Tustin's mouth slant into its crooked smile of scorn.
