LITMIR.BIZ

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if you like; but you will have to sit on the box. Mrs. Leith Fairfax, George, Nelly, and I, will be a carriageful.”

      Marmaduke looked at his watch. “By Jove!” he cried, “it is only ten. I forgot how early we began tonight. No thank you, Marian: I am not going your way; but you may take the banjo and keep it until I call. Ta ta!”

      They all went out together; and the ladies, followed by the clergyman, entered their carriage and drove away, leaving Marmaduke and Conolly standing on the pavement. Having shared the success of the concert, each felt well disposed to the other.

      “What direction are you going in?” said Marmaduke.

      “Westminster Bridge or thereabouts,” replied Conolly. “This place is rather out of the way.”

      “Have you anything particular to do before you turn in for the night?”

      “Nothing at all.”

      “Then I’ll tell you what it is, old man. Lets take a hansom, and drive off to the Bijou. We shall just be in time to see Lalage Virtue in the burlesque; and — look here! I’ll introduce you to her: youre just the sort of chap she would like to know. Eh?”

      Conolly looked at him, nodded, and burst out laughing. Marmaduke, who had set him down as a cool, undemonstrative man, was surprised at his hilarity for a moment, but presently joined in it. Whilst they were both laughing a hansom appeared, and Conolly, recovering himself, hailed the driver.

      “We shall get on together, I see,” said Marmaduke, jumping into the cab. “Hallo! The Bijou Theatre, Soho, and drive as fast as you can afford to for half a sovereign.”

      “Right you are, sir,” replied the driver, whipping his horse.

      The rattling of the cab silenced Conolly; but his companion persisted for some time in describing the burlesque to which they were going, and particularly the attractions of Mademoiselle Lalage Virtue, who enacted a principal character therein, and with whom he seemed to be in love. When they alighted at the theatre Marmaduke payed the cabman, and Conolly took advantage of this to enter the theatre and purchase two stall tickets, an arrangement which Lind, suddenly recollecting his new friend’s position, disapproved of, but found it useless to protest against. He forgot it on hearing the voice of Lalage Virtue, who was at that moment singing within; and he went to his stall with his eyes turned to the stage, treading on toes and stumbling as children commonly do when they walk in one direction and look in another. An attendant, who seemed to know him, proffered a glass for hire. He took it, and leveled it at Mademoiselle Lalage, who was singing some trivial couplets much better than they deserved. Catching sight of him presently, she greeted him with a flash of her dark eye that made him writhe as though his heart had received a fillip from a ponderable missile. She did not spare these roguish glances. They darted everywhere; and Conolly, looking about him to note their effect, saw rows of callow young faces with parted lips and an expression which seemed to have been caught and fixed at the climax of a blissful chuckle. There were few women in the stalls, and the silly young faces were relieved only by stupid old ones.

      The couplets ended amidst great applause. Marmaduke placed his glass on his knees, and, clapping his hands vigorously, turned to his companion with a triumphant smile, mutely inviting him to clamor for a repetition of the air. But Conolly sat motionless, with his arms folded, his cheek flushed, and his brow lowered.

      “You dont seem used to this sort of thing,” said Lind, somewhat disgusted.

      “It was well sung,” replied Conolly “ — better than most of these blackguards know.”

      “Then why dont you clap?”

      “Because she is not giving herself any trouble. That sort of thing, from a woman of her talent, is too cheap to say ‘thank you’ for.”

      Marmaduke looked at him, and began to think that he was a priggish fellow after all. But as the burlesque went on, Mademoiselle Lalage charmed away this disagreeable impression. She warbled in an amorous duet, and then sang the pleasures of champagne; tossing her head; waving a gilt goblet; and, without the least appearance of effort, working hard to captivate those who were to be won by bold smiles and arch glances. She displayed her person less freely than her colleagues, being, not more modest, but more skilful in the art of seduction. The slang that served for dialogue in her part was delivered in all sorts of intonations, now demure and mischievous, anon strident and mock tragic. Marmaduke was delighted.

      “What I like about her is that she is such a genuine little lady,” he said, as her exit released his attention. “With all her go, she is never a bit vulgar. Off the stage she is just the same. Not a spark of affectation about her. It is all natural.”

      “You know her, then?” said Conolly.

      “I should think I do,” replied Marmaduke, energetically. “You have no idea what a rattling sort she is.”

      “To you, who only see her occasionally, no doubt she gives — as a rattling sort — a heightened charm to the order, the refinement, the — the beauty of the home life which you can enjoy. Excuse my introducing such a subject, Mr. Lind; but would you bring your cousin — the lady who sang tonight at the concert — to see this performance?”

      “I would if she asked me to,” said Marmaduke, somewhat taken aback.

      “No doubt. But should you be surprised if she asked you?”

      “Not a bit. Fine ladies are neither such fools nor such angels as you — as some fellows think. Miss Lind’s notion is to see everything. And yet she is a thoroughly nice woman too. It is the same with Lalage there. She is not squeamish, and she is full of fun; but she knows as well as anybody how to pull up a man who doesnt behave himself.”

      “And you actually think that this Lalage Virtue is as respectable a woman as your cousin?”

      “Oh, I dont bother myself about it. I shouldnt have thought of comparing them if you hadnt started the idea. Marian’s way is not the other one’s way, and each of them is all right in her own way. Look here. I’ll introduce you to Lalage. We can pick up somebody else to make a party for you, and finish with a supper at Jellicoe’s.”

      “Are you privileged to introduce whom you like to Miss Lalage?”

      “Well, as to that, she doesnt stand much on ceremony; but then, you see, that cuts two ways. The mere introducing is no difficulty; but it depends on the man himself whether he gets snubbed afterward or not. By the bye, you must understand, if you dont know it already, that Lalage is as correct in her morals as a bishop’s wife. I just tell you, because some fellows seem to think that a woman who goes on the stage leaves her propriety behind as a matter of course. In fact, I rather thought so myself once. Not that you wont find loose women there as well as anywhere else, if you want to. But dont take it for granted, that’s all.”

      “Well,” said Conolly, “you may introduce me, and we can consider the supper afterwards. Would it be indiscreet to ask how you obtained your own introduction? You dont, I suppose, move in the same circle as she; and if she is as particular as your own people, she can hardly form promiscuous acquaintanceships.”

      “A man at the point of death does not stop to think about etiquet. She saved my life.”

      “Saved your life! That sounds romantic.”

      “There was precious little romance about it, though I owe my being alive now to her presence of mind. It happened in the rummest way. I was brought behind the scenes one night by a Cambridge chum. We were painting the town a bit red. We were not exactly drunk; but we were not particularly sober either; and I was very green at that time, and made a fool of myself about Lalage: staring; clapping like a madman in the middle of her songs; getting into the way of everybody and everything, and so on. Then a couple of fellows we knew turned up, and we got chatting at the wing with some girls. At last a fellow came in with a bag of cherries; and we began trying that old trick — you know — taking the end of a stalk between your lips and drawing the cherry into the mouth without touching it with your hand, you know. I tried it; and I was just getting the cherry into my mouth

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