of
"Mrs. Fleming's Husband," and the house was packed with the usual crowd
of first-nighters, critics, and members of "the" profession who were
anxious to see Miss de Gervais in the new part Max Errington had
created for her.

Diana and Joan Stair were in a box, escorted only by Jerry, since Max
had firmly refused to come down to the theatre for the first
performance.

"I can't stand first nights," he had said. "At least, not of my own
plays." And not even Diana's persuasions had availed to move him from
this decision.

Joan was ecstatic in her praise.

"Isn't Adrienne simply wonderful?" she exclaimed, as the music of the
_entr'acte_ stole out from the hidden orchestra.

"'M, yes." Diana's reply lacked enthusiasm.

Joan, if she could not boast great powers of intuition, was dowered
with a keen observation, and she had not spent a week at Lilac Lodge
without putting two and two together and making four of them. She had
noticed a great change in Diana. The girl was moody and unusually
silent; her gay good spirits had entirely vanished, and more than once
Joan had caught her regarding her husband with a curious mixture of
resentment and contempt in her eyes. Joan was frankly worried over the
state of affairs.

"Why this _nil admirari_ attitude?" she asked. "Have you and Adrienne
quarrelled?"

"Quarrelled?" Diana raised her brows ever so slightly. "What should
we quarrel about? As a matter of fact, I really don't see very much of
her nowadays."

"So I imagined," replied Joan calmly. "When I stayed with you last
May, either she came to the Lodge, or you went to Somervell Street,
every day of the week. This time, you've not seen each other since I
came."

"No? I don't think"--lightly--"that Adrienne cares much for members of
her own sex. She prefers--their husbands."

Joan stared in amazement. The little acid speech was so unlike Diana
that she felt convinced it sprang from some new and strong antagonism
towards the actress. What could be the cause of it? Diana and
Adrienne had been warm friends only a few months ago!

Joan's eyes travelled from Diana's small, set face to Jerry's pleasant
boyish one. The latter had opened his mouth to speak, then thought
better of it, and closed it again, reddening uncomfortably, and his
dismayed expression was so obvious as to be almost comic.

The rise of the curtain for the third and last act put a summary end to
any further conversation and Joan bent