A Star for a Night Part 5

Flossie peered at her chum suspiciously, and then laughed.

"Well, don't like him too much. I saw him first."

Pinkie's large eyes almost filled with tears.

"Why, Flossie, how can you? I'm sure I don't want to steal your gentleman friend."

Flossie put her arm affectionately around Pinkie's somewhat large waist and laughed.

"Never mind, dear, I was only joking. Of course you know it is understood that Mr. Zinsheimer and I are to get married as soon as my lawsuit is settled."

Zinsheimer himself entered at this juncture, and Pinkie was formally introduced to the generous feather importer. She started to cry as he patted her hand cordially, holding it just a trifle longer than was absolutely necessary, and thereby eliciting a warning look from the alert Flossie.

"Oh, Mr. Zinsheimer, it's such a relief to meet a real gentleman," cried Pinkie, half in tears. "Honestly, I could almost hug you for your kindness to a poor little shipwrecked, stranded girl. I am so helpless and alone."

"There, there, now, don't cry," protested "Marky." "Your Uncle Marky will see that you don't go hungry this trip."

At this point Flossie dexterously inserted herself between the couple and coughed until "Marky" let Pinkie's hand drop.

"Didn't I say you'd like him, Pinkie?" she observed sharply.

"Let's go over and play roulette," suggested Zinsheimer. "Maybe we can win enough to get Pinkie a new outfit, eh?" And he looked doubtfully over the somewhat worn suit which was poor Pinkie's only possession.

At that Pinkie sobbed audibly. "I'm sorry to disgrace you," she wailed, "but the horrid manager of the hotel in Indianapolis wouldn't let me take my trunk until I paid him seventeen dollars and forty-five cents.

And where could I get all that money?"

Zinsheimer patted her hand encouragingly. "Come over to the Casino," he whispered. "We'll try our luck at the wheel." And with Flossie clinging to his right arm and Pinkie to his left, the genial feather importer started toward the Casino. At the head of the stairway the trio almost collided with Mrs. Dainton's footman, who was carrying the Pomeranian.

Close behind came Mrs. Dainton herself, her maids, and her manager.

Zinsheimer whispered to the girls quickly.

"That's the English actress," he said quietly. "I once knew her, but we don't speak now as we pa.s.s by. Let's be real supercilious."

So, as Zinsheimer and the girls pa.s.sed by ostentatiously, Pinkie and Flossie, taking their cue, broke forth into peals of merry laughter, while Zinsheimer so guided the party that Mrs. Dainton had to step to one side to avoid Flossie's rattling chatelaines.

Mrs. Dainton sank into an easy-chair, and Victor hurriedly adjusted the cushions for her comfort.

"I beg Madame's pardon, but when shall we leave?" inquired the obsequious personal manager.

"I don't expect to leave at all," replied Mrs. Dainton, sharply.

Anxious to get her back to New York, Mrs. Dainton's manager hoped this last annoyance would move her.

"But the rehearsals for your new play," he said.

"Wire the New York management to send the company out here. We will rehea.r.s.e here."

Weldon could not refrain from an audible expression of despair, being for a moment dumbfounded at the thought of the expense. Neither Mrs.

Dainton nor her manager noticed that a young girl in a simple black gown, who had evidently been searching for a magazine left in one of the chairs, had heard what they said.

"But if the players don't suit--" expostulated Weldon.

"Send them back to New York and get another lot."

"But that will be very expensive."

"What of that?" inquired Mrs. Dainton, languidly. "It's not my money."

Weldon hesitated and then bowed.

"Just as you say, Madame," he said weakly. "I will wire the New York management." And scarcely able to conceal his indignation at this latest whim, Weldon withdrew to telegraph their New York backers the full details of her latest eccentricity.

Martha Farnum, still holding the magazine she had recovered, hesitated.

Then, struck by a sudden thought, she came forward timidly to the famous actress.

"May I--may I speak to you just for a moment?" she asked nervously.

Mrs. Dainton turned in surprise, looked her over carefully from head to foot, and asked carelessly: "Who are you?"

"My name is Martha Farnum, and--"

"Well?"

"I heard you just now--"

"It isn't a nice thing to listen."

"But I couldn't help it--"

"You mean I spoke so loudly?"

"No--but you spoke so distinctly--"

Mrs. Dainton smiled with pleasure. "The critics always said my voice carried well, and that my enunciation was perfect," she said, flattered.

"Well, what can I do for you, my dear?"

Martha hesitated and stammered. "I--I am anxious to go on the stage,"

she faltered.

"What can you do?" inquired Mrs. Dainton.

"I cannot tell until I have tried," confessed Martha.

"You mean you have had no experience? I'm sorry, but I've made it a rule never to give any young girl her first engagement on the stage."

"But why?" gasped Martha.

"Because I don't approve of their going on the stage."