Adrien Leroy | Page 4

the desire to make his son a man of position with the power to
mix as an equal among that portion of society which only came to
Malcolm Vermont when it wanted its scandals glossed over, or to
obtain money. Ill-natured people were apt to hint that he had amassed
his wealth by means of usury and the taking up of shady cases. At any
rate, he made sufficient to bring up his son in luxury and send him to
Oxford, where Jasper had first come in contact with Adrien Leroy. At
the death of his father, Vermont found himself possessed of an income
of a thousand a year, which enabled him to become a member of
Adrien's set, notwithstanding that the amount was a much smaller one
than he had been led to expect, and, in his opinion, savoured almost of
aristocratic poverty.
The car had rolled silently into a side street off St. James's, where the
chauffeur pulled up sharply at the door of one of the old-fashioned,
though now newly-painted houses. Vermont sprang out and rang the
bell twice.
"Has Miss Lester returned yet?" he asked of the smart maid who
opened the door.
"Yes, sir," she answered, and promptly led the way up a
newly-carpeted staircase, redolent of Parma violet scent and glistening
with white enamelled woodwork and plaster casts. The walls were
adorned with pictures in the worst possible taste and the most glaring
colours. As Vermont reached the first floor, a strong, savoury odour
filled the air.
He smiled sarcastically, and sniffed as if the perfume were familiar to
him.
"Miss Lester at supper?" he asked the white-capped maid, as she threw
open the door on the first floor, and stood aside to let the visitor
precede her.
"Yes, sir; supper's been served," was the demure answer.

Vermont passed into the room, which was furnished with the same lack
of taste as the staircase. Two women were seated at the table,
apparently just finishing their supper.
At first glance they might have been mistaken for mother and daughter,
as the elder woman was clad in a sombre black velvet dress, and had a
pale, thin face, crowned with heavy masses of grey hair. On closer
inspection, however, one perceived that Julia Lester was far from
old--indeed, not more than about forty-five, and with a peculiarly
gentle, almost child-like expression, which at first took one almost by
surprise.
On the other hand, her sister, though only about ten years younger,
would easily have passed as twenty-five, especially when behind the
footlights, which was her usual environment.
"Oh, it's you, Jasper, is it?" she remarked carelessly, pausing in the act
of lighting a cigarette. "Didn't hear you come in. You're so quiet on
your pins."
Like the house she inhabited, Miss Lester combined in her person
prodigality of colours with a fine disregard of taste. Beautiful she
undoubtedly was, with the black-browed, dark-eyed beauty of a
Cleopatra, for there was some Italian blood in her veins. It was given
out occasionally by the Press that she had been a theatre-dresser, an
organ-grinder, and fifty other things; but nevertheless, illiterate,
common and ill-bred, she had yet achieved fame--or rather, perhaps,
notoriety---by her dancing and sheer animal good looks.
As a matter of fact she owed her success primarily to Jasper Vermont,
who, as a young man and during a quarrel with his father, had lodged in
the same house with the handsome sisters, Julia, and Ada Lester, the
latter then being only about fifteen years of age. He had fallen violently
in love with Julia, then in the height of her beauty, and had cruelly
deceived her. To appease the indignation of the younger sister he had
got her an introduction to the manager of the Rockingham Theatre, who
was about to put on a new Egyptian ballet, and from that time onwards
it had been plain sailing for Ada. Later on came a meeting with Leroy,

planned by Jasper's connivance; and Adrien, attracted by the woman's
ripe beauty, had been blind, so far, to the deficiencies of her mind and
character.
To-night she looked a veritable daughter of the South. Her dress was of
scarlet, touched with black, and she was wearing diamonds--gifts from
her many admirers--of such intrinsic value as to render many a countess
jealous.
"Yes, it is I," said Vermont. "Onions and cigarettes! I thought Leroy
objected to both."
Ada laughed.
"It's the smell he don't like," she said lightly. "He's so particular. But
he's not coming to-night; leastways, he said he wasn't."
"Ah!" said Vermont smiling, as he seated himself at the table and took
up a small bottle which proved to be empty, "Is there anything left to
drink?"
"Have some fizz," said Ada hospitably. "Ring the bell, Ju, and give me
another