LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER II

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      Outside the club door, Vermont's motor was drawn up at the side waiting for him. He looked at his watch, and was surprised at the lateness of the hour. Stepping hastily into the vehicle, he held up two fingers to the chauffeur, who apparently needed no other instructions; for the car glided off, and Vermont, as he passed the club, looked up at the windows with an ugly smile.

      As Lord Standon had said, few knew his origin or his business; but, in reality, his antecedents were of a very ordinary nature. He was the son of a solicitor who had lived with but one object in his sordid life, namely, 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 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."

      "Then they could have looked at me instead," retorted Ada tartly. "But I've no patience with Adrien. Why can't he get 'em something lively? A musical comedy now--I could make that go, if you like! Plenty of songs and no talky-talky business. Besides, I can dance."

      "But can't act," murmured Jasper, with his sarcastic smile.

      "Can't I!" cried Ada furiously. "That's all you know about it. Why didn't you come last night?"

      "Business," he answered carelessly, sipping his wine; adding, as he saw her about to question him, "With which I won't trouble you, my fair Ada."

      "Oh won't you!" was that lady's retort. "You're mighty polite, I must say. I suppose you were down at that old Castle again, and Adrien too! What were you doing there?"

      "Minding our own business," he replied smilingly, as he lit a cigarette.

      "Close as a fox, you are," she declared, with a short, disagreeable laugh. "Where's Adrien? Down there still?"

      "No;

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