ld just think so," said a man, addressing
another who had passed a remark on the lady in question. "She's the
biggest star on the stage, you bet! Ada Lester knows her value, and
ain't likely to forget it neither."
The other man ventured a remark concerning the lady's escort.
"Him? That's Leroy--son of Lord Barminster--the richest of 'em all. She
belongs to him, she does; so does the whole theatre. Costs him a pretty
penny, you bet. But lor' bless yer, he don't mind! Can't spend his money
fast enough. My brother's one of the shifters; and the things he cud
tell yer about 'er, and 'er temper, 'ud make yer 'air stand on end."
Jessica moved away, while members of the group aired their knowledge of
the rapidly entering, smartly-dressed audience.
"That's Mr. Leroy's friend, Mr. Vermont," commenced the first speaker
again. "I've 'eard tell 'e does all the work and pays out all the other
one's money; but he ain't no class himself--he's not a real tip-top
swell like them others." He pointed to a little group of
white-waistcoated, immaculately-dressed men, now standing on the steps
of the vestibule. "Lord! this 'ere Casket'll be crammed with all the
swells to-night--'cos it's the fashion."
"So Ada Lester is the fashion now, eh?" commented his companion, who had
probably known her in her poorer days, and therefore was inclined to be
interested in her.
"Not 'arf, she ain't," agreed the man, with the Londoner's pride in
laying down the law on the subject. "She's got a house like a duchess,
and can eat off gold or silver if she chooses; an' all for her face, for
she can't act for nuts. I've seen 'er so I know!" With which lordly
criticism, he closed the subject.
As for Jessica, sick at heart with jealousy, she turned up one of the
side streets to commence her long wait for Adrien Leroy; while the group
dispersed, laughing and chattering.
The Casket was filled now to its utmost capacity. It was the first night
of a new piece. The unfortunate comedy which Ada had so strongly
condemned had been withdrawn, and a so-called musical farce--consisting
of very bad music, and still worse comedy--hastily put on in its stead.
As usual, no expense had been spared in the mounting, and Adrien's money
had been poured out like water on extraordinary costumes, gorgeous,
highly-coloured scenery, and a hundred embellishments for this new piece
of elaborate and senseless burlesque, Prince Bon-Bon. But with all its
deficiencies as regarde
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