Like many other girls of poor position and no particular talent, she looked forward to a judicious marriage to give her what she wanted, to justify her aspirations. The future was precarious. Alma Buckley was a good enough friend now, but any day she herself might marry, and then Lettice might no longer find herself a welcome inmate in a changed establishment.
But opportunity was a long time coming. Alma was a jolly, genial soul, with a great genius for friendship, and she soon gathered round her a goodly circle of acquaintances, nearly all members of her own profession. Truth to tell, there was not much refinement amongst the men and women who frequented the little flat, and Miss Larchester, due, no doubt, to the good blood on her father’s side, was rather fastidious. She wanted a man who was not only well-off, but also a gentleman in manners and appearance.
Her friend used to rally her upon what she considered her high-flown notions. “No use waiting for the impossible, my dear,” she said to her, with her loud, jolly laugh. “The Prince Charming you are sighing for won’t make his way to our flat. Get hold of the first chap who takes you seriously, after satisfying yourself he’s making plenty of money. Never mind if he doesn’t come up quite to your standard in certain things. You can try the polishing process on him after you’re married, and as likely as not you’ll make a good job of it.”
But these accommodating views did not recommend themselves to a girl of refinement. She thought the profession her friend had adopted was at best a very precarious one, and the type of male artist she came across rather repelled than attracted her. It was different, of course, with Alma Buckley. She came from humble stock and was naturally at home amongst her own class, she discovered nothing to find fault with in the manners or appearance of the men who frequented her flat, sang comic songs, made broad jokes, and often indulged in more stimulant than was good for them.
And then suddenly Prince Charming made his appearance, and Miss Buckley was constrained to admit that he appeared to be “quite the gentleman,” and was distinctly on a higher social plane than the persons at whom Lettice turned up her fastidious nose.
The meeting happened this way. Miss Buckley had been working very hard for some time, doing two halls a night at a considerable distance from each other, and incidentally making a considerable sum of money. When the engagements came to an end she felt fagged and run down, and on consulting a doctor, he prescribed a month’s holiday.
The idea pleased her and she could well afford it. Very soon she made her plans, and with her usual generosity, included her friend in them.
“We’ll go to dear old Paris,” she announced, “and we’ll stop there not a minute less than four weeks; if we’re enjoying ourselves very much, I don’t say we won’t put in an extra week. Better than going to the seaside; what we want is a complete change. ‘Gay Paree’ will give it us.”
On board the boat Alma got into conversation with a very elegant young man whose name she afterwards discovered to be the high-sounding one of Darcy. He was quite good-looking, possessed a pleasant well-bred voice, and was attired in costume appropriate to travel of a most fashionable cut. Miss Buckley did most of the talking, but she could see that this aristocratic young man was greatly attracted by Lettice, and that Lettice appeared equally attracted by him.
“I really think this is Prince Charming,” she took an opportunity of whispering to her friend. “And, my dear, there’s a look of money about him. Did you notice that lovely emerald pin? It’s worth no end.”