The house rang with applause from the men, in which the women but faintly joined. From the right-hand box a fleeting something fell, and, stooping with wondrous grace, Clovis raised a mammoth bunch of violets, pressed it to her lips, and then, with an upward glance, placed it in the horse-shoe, where it hung, the loosened flowers dropping upon the pink below as she moved across the stage.
The passion flush that was for an instant upon Emory’s face must have reflected its sunset in the opposite box, for a white hand suddenly drew back the lace curtains and Gwendoline’s beautiful visage, flame-colored, flashed for a moment; and Neil could not avoid meeting the eyes that sought his own, or escape the slow smile that crept over the lips—a cruel smile, he thought, a cold and cruel smile, that had within itself the commencement of a devil’s laugh.
CHAPTER III.
SHE WHO INFLAMES WITH LOVE.
Cassandra Clovis arose late the next morning, and, after a refreshing bath, made an elaborate toilet and went out for a drive. She stopped on her return and brought home the one woman for whom she cared, Kitty Mays by name, a person who deserves a brief mention in these pages.
In appearance Kitty Mays was exactly the opposite of the actress. She was exceedingly small, with a face so surrounded by flying, fluffy blond hair as to be almost invisible, while a fluttering, restless movement of head and shoulders, arms and body, made the occasion rare when one could tell whether she was pretty or not. And yet she was pretty. Sometimes, suddenly checking her movements, she would raise her face, and, throwing back her head, open her beautiful mouth and give vent to laughter long and rippling as a child’s, while the color came into her cheeks and her eyes grew bright and large with mirth. Thus it was that on and off the stage people went to hear “Kitty’s laugh,” carrying home the remembrance of its bell-echo ripple. Was she daft? Some thought so. Who had ever known her to say or do anything bright? Was it that Clovis kept her seated on her train to echo her smiles? Was that laugh artificial? You must wait and see. I shall help you all I can.
When they had sent away the carriage and laid their hats aside, they ordered a lunch, with wine. Kitty sat curled up on a sofa, but with characteristic restlessness was tossing pieces of bread in the air and trying to catch them in her mouth, her shaggy head bobbing to and fro like a yellow poodle’s.
“Stop!” said Clovis; “you make me nervous.”
“Just one more time!” cried Kitty. “I’m sure to catch the next.”
Again and again the white flakes flew up and down; at last, one fell in the rosy mouth and the white teeth closed.
“Ha! ha! ha!” and the silver bells rang.