As we passed she examined me with a curiosity whose charm was its
frankness. Of course, she put me out of countenance, particularly when
she put her hand on my sleeve. Divettes have the right to do these
things.
"I know who you are," she said, laughing and showing her teeth. "You
are dear old Sully's cousin; he pointed you out to me the other night
when you were at the Diana. Now, don't say you aren't, or I shall look
such a fool; and for goodness' sake don't say you don't know
me--because everyone knows me, and if they don't they ought to."
I was swept away by the exuberance of her attack, and, blushing
violently, I took the small hand which she offered, and assured her
that I was in fact Sullivan Smith's cousin, and her sincere admirer.
"That's all right," she said, raising her superb shoulders after a
special manner of her own. "Now you shall take me to Sullivan, and he
shall introduce us. Any friend of dear old Sully's is a friend of
mine. How do you like my new song?"
"What new song?" I inquired incautiously.
"Why, 'Who milked the cow?' of course."
I endeavored to give her to understand that it had made an indelible
impression on me; and with such like converse we went in search of
Sullivan, while everyone turned to observe the unknown shy young man
who was escorting Marie Deschamps.
"Here he is," my companion said at length, as we neared the orchestra,
"listening to the band. He should have a band, the little dear!
Sullivan, introduce me to your cousin."
"Charmed--delighted." And Sullivan beamed with pleasure. "Ah, my young
friend," he went on to me, "you know your way about fairly well. But
there! medical students--they're all alike. Well, what do you think of
the show?"
"Hasn't he done it awfully well, Mr. Foster?" said Miss Deschamps.
I said that I should rather think he had.
"Look here," said Sullivan, becoming grave and dropping his voice,
"there are four hundred invitations, and it'll cost me seven hundred
and fifty pounds. But it pays. You know that, don't you, Marie? Look
at the advertisement! And I've got a lot of newspaper chaps here.
It'll be in every paper to-morrow. I reckon I've done this thing on
the right lines. It's only a reception, of course, but let me tell you
I've seen after the refreshments--not snacks--refreshments, mind you!
And there's a smoke-room for the boys, and the wife's got a
spiritualism-room, and there's the show in this room. Some jolly good
people here, too--not all chorus girls and walking gents. Are they,
Marie?"
"You bet not," the lady replied.
"Rosetta Rosa's coming, and she won't go quite everywhere--not quite!
By the way, it's about time she did come." He looked at his watch.