“Why, Mr. Fuchs and the Three Graces! Here’s a surprise!” said Pa, who had not seen them since the New York Olympians. “When did you get here? Yesterday?”
There was a general shaking of hands. Fuchs congratulated Pa on his success, said he had followed his progress in the papers. Pa owned a troupe now and had a name.
“So this is your Lily,” said Fuchs, tapping her on the cheek as she joined the group. “A real lady! And good, eh?”
The Three Graces also congratulated Pa ... kissed Lily:
“How sweet you’ve grown! Why, Lily, how pretty you are!”
Lily was so surprised, so pleased; and her Pa was very proud. He thanked Mr. Fuchs, complimented the Three Graces in his turn, to their delight:
“What arms! What muscles!” Then, “Excuse us, eh? Lily must get ready. We shall meet again presently, after practice.”
The Graces had gone back to it already. Pa tested the bikes; took a hurried turn at the pumps; and, when the apprentices and Lily returned:
“Yoop, up with you!”
The round began. Tom looked to the girls, constantly; ran after them; kept an eye on their falls. Pa, constantly, hung on to Lily. Nothing else existed when he was handling his star. His wish to do well, his love of art for art’s sake worked him up, stimulated him, made him hit out but not in anger: it was the spark of enthusiasm, of which the apprentices caught the reflection.