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 chop.  Well, Jasper, what’s the news?”

“Just the question I was about to ask,” he replied, as the maid-servant brought in a bottle of champagne and glasses on a silver tray.  “How did the comedy go?”

“Rotten!” pronounced Ada shortly.  “I told Adrien it wouldn’t go, though I did my best—­didn’t I, Ju?  The frocks were really first-class—­blue satin and silver, with loads of pearls, and my turquoise armlets.  All right, eh?”

“Yes,” agreed Vermont, adding, with a sneer, “Perhaps the stupid public got tired of looking at the blue satin.”