"Where
is Miss Vere?"

He was standing just beneath the painted bough of the sham tree, and in
one second his hat was dexterously kicked off, and two heels met with a
click round his neck.

"Here I am, pickaninny!" retorted Miss Vere holding him fast in this
novel embrace, amid the laughter of the supers. "You're getting as blind
as Tommy! Steady, steady now, donkey!--steady--woa!" And in a thrice she
stood upright, one foot planted firmly on each of his shoulders.

"No weight, am I, darling?" she went on jeeringly, and with an
inimitably derisive air she put up an eye-glass and surveyed the top of
his head. "You want a wig, my dear--you do, indeed! Come with me
to-morrow, and I'll buy you one to suit your complexion. Your wife won't
know you!"

And with a vigorous jump she sprang down from her position, managing to
give him a smart hit on the nose as she did so--and leaping to the
centre of the stage, she posed herself to commence her dance--when Tommy
came creeping back in his slow and dismal fashion, bearing something in
a pewter pot.

"That's the ticket!" she cried as she perceived him. "I'm as dry as a
whole desert! Give it here!" And she snatched the mug from the feeble
hand of her messenger and began drinking eagerly.

The little red-faced man interposed. "Now, Miss Vi," he said, "is that
brandy?"

"Rather so!" returned the Vere, with a knowing wink, "and a good many
things besides. It's a mixture. The 'Vere's Own!' Ha, ha! Might be the
name of a regiment!"

And she buried her mouth and nose again in the tankard.

"Look here," said the little man again. "Why not wait till after the
dance? It's bad for you before."

"Oh, is it, indeed!" screamed Violet, raising her face, which became
suddenly and violently flushed. "O good Lord! Are you a temperance
preacher? Teach your granny! Bad for me? Say another word, and I'll box
your ears for you! You braying jackass!--you snivelling idiot! Who makes
the Brilliant draw? You or I? Tell me that, you staring old--"

Here Tommy, who had for some minutes been vainly endeavoring to attract
her attention, raised his weak voice to a feeble shout.

"I say, Miss Vere! I've been trying to tell you, but you won't listen!
There's a lady waiting to see you!"

"A what?" she asked.

"A lady!" continued Tommy, in loud tones. "A lady of title! Wants to see
you in private! Won't detain you long!"

Violet Vere raised her pewter mug once more, and drained off its
contents.