“My dear,” Sylvia said, “you know I’m your pal.”
“Oh, Sylvia, you’re a darling! I’d do anything for you.”
“Even carry your own bag at the station to-morrow?”
“No, don’t tease me,” Lily begged. “If you won’t tease me, I’ll do anything.”
That evening Mr. Keal, with the mighty Mr. Richards himself, came up from London to see the show. The members of the chorus were much agitated. It could only mean that girls were to be chosen for the Vanity production in the autumn. Every one of them put on rather more make-up than usual, acted hard all the time she was on the stage, and tried to study Mr. Richards’s face from the wings.
“You and I are one of the ‘also rans,’” Sylvia told Lily. “The great man eyed me with positive dislike.”
In the end it was Dorothy Lonsdale who was engaged for the Vanity: she was so much elated that she was reconciled with Lily and told everybody in the dressing-room that she had met a cousin at Oxford, Arthur Lonsdale, Lord Cleveden’s son.
“Which side of the road are you related to him?” Sylvia asked. Dorothy blushed, but she pretended not to understand what Sylvia meant, and said quite calmly that it was on her mother’s side. She parted with Sylvia and Lily very cordially at Paddington, but she did not invite either of them to come and see her at Lonsdale Road.
Sylvia and Lily stayed together at Mrs. Gowndry’s in Finborough Road, for it happened that the final negotiations for Sylvia’s divorce from Philip were being concluded and she took pleasure in addressing her communications from the house where she had been living when he first met her. Philip was very anxious to make her an allowance, but she declined it; her case was undefended. Lily and she managed to get an engagement in another touring company, which opened in August somewhere on the south coast. About this time Sylvia read in a paper that Jimmy Monkley had been sentenced to three years’ penal servitude for fraud, and by an odd coincidence in the same paper she read of the decree nisi made absolute that set Philip and herself free. Old associations seemed to be getting wound up. Unfortunately, the new ones were not promising; no duller collection of people had surely ever been gathered together than the company in which she was working at present. Not only was the company tiresome, but Sylvia and Lily failed to meet anywhere on the tour one amusing person. To be sure, Lily thought that Sylvia was too critical, and therefore so alarming that several “nice boys” were discouraged too early in their acquaintanceship for a final judgment to be passed upon them.
“The trouble is,” said Sylvia, “that at this rate we shall never make our fortunes. I stipulate that, if we adopt a gay life, it really will be a gay life. I don’t want to have soul-spasms and internal wrestles merely for the sake of being bored.”