Adrien Leroy | Page 2

near a million," put in Parselle enviously, "and with the run
of a castle like a palace. No, Vermont's no fool!"
Mortimer Shelton nodded.
"The Castle's all right," he said curtly. "You can trust the Leroys to
have the best of everything. They treat money like dirt, and bow before
nothing but Royalty and women. Yet, with it all, there's no stauncher
friend than a Leroy."
"As Vermont knows only too well," muttered Standon dryly. "By the
way, I saw Ada Lester in the Park this morning. Jove! Such furs!"
"In that quarter Adrien certainly treats his money like dust," said

Parselle, with a short laugh. "I can't think what he sees in her; to me she
seems an insatiate animal--and about as difficult to satisfy. It's a jolly
good job for Leroy that, thanks to his father's generosity, his income
runs into five figures--nothing else would stand the strain."
"Do you know, some one told me at the Casket the other night that
Leroy had made the theatre over to Ada entirely, and settled a thousand
a year on her into the bargain," said Standon, leaning forward.
"I daresay," Mortimer commented dryly. "He's fool enough for
anything. The place runs him into eight thousand a year as it is--not
including Ada Lester, the lady manager--so he might just as well hand
it over to her altogether. I wish to goodness the wretched building
would burn down! 'Pon my word, I shall set it alight myself one fine
night----"
"Hush! Here he is," said Lord Standon; adding quickly, "with Vermont,
of course."
The others looked round towards the new-comers. One was a
dark-haired man of about forty years of age. His face was pale, with an
almost unhealthy pallor, from which his small dark eyes glittered
restlessly; his thin lips, tightly closed, were set in an almost straight line.
Clean-shaven, sleek of hair, he wore an expression of cautious slyness
that implied a mental attitude ever on guard against some sudden
exposure of his real feelings. Such was Jasper Vermont.
His companion was of a different calibre. Still apparently in the early
thirties, tall, and with clear-cut aristocratic features, he was decidedly
good to look upon. His face, fair as that of a woman, was perhaps
slightly marred by the expression of weakness which lurked round the
finely-moulded lips; but for all that it was stamped with the latent
nobility which characterised his race.
The Hon. Adrien Leroy, only son of Baron Barminster, was one of the
most noted figures in fashionable society. His father, who since the
death of Lady Barminster had lived almost as a recluse, spent the days
in the old Castle, and had practically abdicated in favour of his son. So

that the colossal income accruing from the coal mines of Wales, the
rentals of the Leroy estates in the Southern Counties, and the ground
rents of a considerable acreage in one of the most fashionable parts of
London, all passed through the hands of Adrien, who, in his turn, spent
it like water, leaving Jasper Vermont--his one-time college friend and
now his confidential steward--to watch over his affairs.
Leroy, with a genial smile of greeting for all, but a grave, almost weary
expression in his blue eyes, parried the numerous questions and
invitations that beset him on all sides, and, taking Vermont's arm, drew
him towards the table where his three friends awaited him.
"I'm sorry we're late," he said in a pleasant voice, which was clear and
unaffected, in strong contrast to the chatter which buzzed round him at
their entry. "Blame Jasper, who, if he is as hungry as I am, is punished
already."
His good-humoured laugh as he seated himself drew echoes from his
friends; Leroy's popularity was never more apparent than in a gathering
of this sort, composed exclusively of his own sex.
"So, have just come up from Barminster," said Shelton presently, "How
is the Castle looking?"
Adrien, busily satisfying a vigorous appetite, merely nodded and
smiled in reply; but Jasper Vermont answered for him.
"Beautiful!" he said, with a smile which showed his white, even teeth.
"Beautiful! It's a charming view; but we saw little of it this visit. Ah,
Shelton, you are really an epicure! We don't get clear turtle like this at
the Pallodeon--eh, Adrien?"
"No," replied the young man, looking up. "We ought to have Shelton
on the committee. No wonder they love you here, Shelton! And so the
colt has lost the steeplechase? I saw the news as I came along."
"And you have lost, how much--two thousand?" queried Parselle.

"Five," said Vermont, not quickly, but just before Adrien could speak.
"Is it five?" asked Leroy indifferently. "I thought I'd backed 'Venus' for
more."
"I backed her myself for a couple of hundred," put in Lord Standon
ruefully.