There had been no performance at the Frivolity Theatre on the night after Joseph's sudden appearance there.
Mimi Addington had been taken away in a state of wild and terrified hysteria. It was impossible for her to play upon the Saturday night, and her understudy, who should have sustained the part in the illness of her principal, had disappeared, and could not be found. Moreover, several other members of the cast had sent in their resignations, and many of the ticket offices of the West End of town had reported that the gilded gang of young men who were accustomed to take stalls for considerable portions of the run of a popular piece had withdrawn their applications.
"Well, Mimi, my dear," said Mr. Levison, with anxious geniality, "and how are you to-day?"
"Bad," the girl answered in one single bitter word.
Mr. Levison made a commiserating noise.
"Tut, tut!" he said; "you must try and bear up, Mimi, though I must own this abominable and unprecedented occurrence has been enough to try any one—this Joseph."
At the word the woman sprang from her couch with a swift feline movement of rage.
"Him!" she screamed, in a voice from which all the usual melody and sweetness had entirely departed. "If I had him here I'd murder him! No, that would be too good for him! I've thought of worse things than that to do!"
Lord Bellina went up to her and put his arm round her shoulder.
"And serve him right," he said; "but try and be quiet, Mimi, you'll only make yourself worse."