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did you?” Davita questioned. “I had nowhere else to go, and I have to find employment of some sort.”
    “You said in your letter your father was dead. Didn’t he leave you anything?” Violet enquired. “What about the Castle?”
    “It was ... mortgaged,” Davita said in a small voice, feeling embarrassed at talking so intimately when there were other people round her.
    But the other women were paying no attention, chatting amongst themselves as they continued to apply cosmetics to their faces or were buttoned into their gowns.
    The woman who was dressing Violet now produced the most beautiful dress that Davita could possibly imagine.
    It swirled out from her tiny waist in elaborate frills ornamented with roses and bows of silk ribbon.
    The bodice, however, seemed to Davita almost embarrassingly low, and she thought that if she had to wear such a gown she would feel extremely shy.
    Roses decorated the small sleeves and the décolletage , and there were roses, tulle, and feathers on the magnificent hat which the dresser was setting in place on Violet’s fair, elaborately arranged hair.
    She sat down on a chair in front of the mirror to put it on, and Davita exclaimed:
    “How lovely you look, Violet! I am not surprised that people flock to the Theatre to see you.”
    “And a few others,” Violet said, “but wait ’til you see the Show!”
    “I would love to do that,” Davita answered. “Do you think it would be possible for me to get a seat in the Gallery, or somewhere cheap?”
    Violet looked at her as if she were joking. Then she said:
    “I’m not having that! Not when you’ve come all the way from Scotland to see me!”
    She thought for a moment. Then she said:
    “I know. I’ll put you in the Box with Bertie. He ought to be here by now.”
    “No, no. Please do not trouble,” Davita said quickly. “I do not want to be a nuisance to anybody. Perhaps I can wait here until you are ready to leave.”
    Violet laughed as if she had made a joke.
    “If you’re suggesting that when I leave here I’ll be going straight home, then that’s where you’re wrong, Miss Innocent!”
    S he looked at the dresser who was arranging her hair. “We don’t go home after the Show, do we, Jessie?”
    “ Might be better if yer did occasionally!” Jessie answered tartly. “All these late nights’ll make yer old before yer years, yer mark my words!”
    V iolet laughed spontaneously, just as she had when she had been in Scotland with Davita.
    “ I’ve got a bit of time left to get my ‘beauty-sleep,’ as you call it,” she answered, “when nobody asks me out to supper.”
    A s she spoke, Davita realised that she had been very stupid.
    S he had somehow thought that when she stayed with Violet they would be together and she would go back with her to her lodgings.
    N ow she knew that, looking so lovely, Violet would have a “Stage-Door Johnny” waiting to take her to the places her father had mentioned—Romano’s or Rules—and there would certainly be no point in her waiting.
    “ I am sorry, Violet,” she said quickly. “I did not mean to be a bother coming here. I will go back and we can talk tomorrow.”
    “ You’ll do no such thing!” Violet said.
    S he turned her face first one way, then the other, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Then she said: “That’s all right, Jessie. Now nip down and find out if Lord Mundesley’s in his usual Box, and if he is, ask him to come through the stage-door and speak to me for a moment.”
    “ The Guv’nor don’t like gentlemen coming through ’fore the interval!” Jessie said.
    “ I know he doesn’t,” Violet replied, “but I’ve got to introduce His Lordship to my friend, haven’t I? Go on, Jessie, and hurry up!”
    J essie flounced off with rather a bad grace and Davita said anxiously:
    “ Oh, please, Violet, I shall be all right. I can see the Show another night.”
    “ What’s the point of waiting?” Violet asked. “Let’s have a look