“Sure!  Go where you like.  I s’pose she’s pokin’ around somewhere to see what’s goin’ on.”

“Of course she’s in one of the tents,” said Kitty, brightening at the idea.  “Where shall we look first, King?”

Just then the man named Bill came along.

“Hello, youngsters,” he said.  “Lookin’ fer that kid sister of yours?  She told me to tell you where she’d gone, but, bless my soul, I forgot all about it!”

“Oh, where is she?” cried Kitty, clasping her hands, and looking up at Bill with pleading eyes.

“There, there, little one!  There ain’t no use gettin’ weepy about it.  Sister’s all right.  She just went in that there tent with Mademoiselle Cora.”

Bill pointed to the tent, and King and Kitty made a dash for it.

They fairly burst in at the door, and sure enough, there was Marjorie sitting on a big packing box, watching a little girl who was performing most remarkable athletic feats.

“Oh, hello,” cried Marjorie, “I’m so glad you’ve come!  Just sit down here beside me, and watch Vivian.  Mademoiselle Cora, this is my brother and sister.”

King pulled off his cap, and felt a little uncertain as to what sort of etiquette this very strange situation demanded.  But he bowed politely, and as Mademoiselle Cora smiled, and asked the two newcomers to be seated, and as there were plenty of packing boxes, King and Kitty sat down.

“This is Vivian,” said Marjorie, waving her hand toward the little acrobat, who was turning double somersaults with lightning rapidity.  “She’s only twelve, isn’t she wonderful?”

The experience was so novel, it is scarcely to be wondered at that King and Kitty fell under the spell, as Marjorie had done, and the three sat breathlessly watching Vivian.

Mademoiselle Cora smiled at the enraptured audience, and in a far corner of the tent sat a placid-looking woman knitting a shawl.  This was the mother of the two girls, but she took little interest in the visitors, and except for an occasional glance at them, devoted herself to her knitting.

After waiting a few moments, and seeing that the children did not reappear, Pompton decided to go into the tent himself.  He hesitated about taking Rosamond in, but there was no help for it, so carrying the child in his arms, he pushed aside the canvas flap which formed the tent door, and stepped inside.

“My word!” he exclaimed, as he saw the youthful performer, and the interested audience.  “You children are the most surprising!  I think you had better come away now.”

“I think so, too,” remarked Vivian’s mother, looking up for a moment from her knitting.  “Are there many more of you to come?”

“Now don’t be uncivil, Mother,” said Cora, with her pretty smile.  “It does no harm for these children to see Vivian perform.  You know she wasn’t on the programme to-day.”

“I’m only a beginner,” said Vivian, standing on her feet once more, and speaking to Marjorie and Kitty.  “I’ve had quite a good deal of training, and now I’m on the programme afternoons twice a week.  Next year I’ll be on every afternoon.”