accomplishments at your disposal."

And signed his name.

It was a dreadful drain on his bank account to send several thousand
engraved cards about town and fashionable resorts. No replies came. Day
after day, exhausted with the practice drill of his profession, he walked
to the Park and took his seat on the bench by the bridle path. Sometimes
he saw her cantering past; she always acknowledged his salute, but never
drew bridle. At times, too, he passed her in the hall; her colorless
"Good morning" never varied except when she said "Good evening." And all
this time he never inquired her name from the hall servant; he was that
sort of man--decent through instinct; for even breeding sometimes permits
sentiment to snoop.

For a week he had been airily dispensing with more than one meal a day;
to keep clothing and boots immaculate required a sacrifice of breakfast
and luncheon--besides, he had various small pensioners to feed, white
rabbits with foolish pink eyes, canary birds, cats, albino mice,
goldfish, and other collaborateurs in his profession. He was obliged to
bribe the janitor, too, because the laws of the house permitted neither
animals nor babies within its precincts. This extra honorarium deprived
him of tobacco, and he became a pessimist.

Besides, doubts as to his own ability arose within him; it was all very
well to practice his magic there alone, but he had not yet tried it on
anybody except the janitor; and when he had begun by discovering several
red-eyed rabbits in the janitor's pockets that intemperate functionary
fled with a despondent yell that brought a policeman to the area gate
with a threat to pull the place.