ething near a million," put in Parselle enviously, "and with the run
of a castle like a palace. No, Vermont's no fool!"

Mortimer Shelton nodded.

"The Castle's all right," he said curtly. "You can trust the Leroys to
have the best of everything. They treat money like dirt, and bow before
nothing but Royalty and women. Yet, with it all, there's no stauncher
friend than a Leroy."

"As Vermont knows only too well," muttered Standon dryly. "By the way, I
saw Ada Lester in the Park this morning. Jove! Such furs!"

"In that quarter Adrien certainly treats his money like dust," said
Parselle, with a short laugh. "I can't think what he sees in her; to me
she seems an insatiate animal--and about as difficult to satisfy. It's a
jolly good job for Leroy that, thanks to his father's generosity, his
income runs into five figures--nothing else would stand the strain."

"Do you know, some one told me at the Casket the other night that Leroy
had made the theatre over to Ada entirely, and settled a thousand a year
on her into the bargain," said Standon, leaning forward.

"I daresay," Mortimer commented dryly. "He's fool enough for anything.
The place runs him into eight thousand a year as it is--not including
Ada Lester, the lady manager--so he might just as well hand it over to
her altogether. I wish to goodness the wretched building would burn
down! 'Pon my word, I shall set it alight myself one fine night----"

"Hush! Here he is," said Lord Standon; adding quickly, "with Vermont, of
course."

The others looked round towards the new-comers. One was a dark-haired
man of about forty years of age. His face was pale, with an almost
unhealthy pallor, from which his small dark eyes glittered restlessly;
his thin lips, tightly closed, were set in an almost straight line.
Clean-shaven, sleek of hair, he wore an expression of cautious slyness
that implied a mental attitude ever on guard against some sudden
exposure of his real feelings. Such was Jasper Vermont.

His companion was of a different calibre. Still apparently in the early
thirties, tall, and with clear-cut aristocratic features, he was
decidedly good to look upon. His face, fair as that of a woman, was
perhaps slightly marred by the expression of weakness which lurked round
the finely-moulded lips; but for all that it was stamped with the latent
nobility which characterised his race.

The Hon. Adrien Leroy, only son of Baron Barminster, was one of the most
noted figures